I'm sure that it is the process of making the mead that is more interesting than the wanton destruction (drink drink) of it that holds me tightly to its golden nectar.

There was a bubble of curiosity in mead about twenty years ago when I attempted to perk up a batch with a bit of knowledge and an apparent inability to follow simple instructions.  A couple quarts of fine honey was lost because I did not wait for the mix to cool down before pitching in a bit of yeast.  I tossed the lot and promptly forgot about mead until a couple years ago when my wife and I began to talk about hosting a hive of bees on our small one acre property.  Yes, we are bee keepers, although I rather think that they keep us.  They do share some of the finest honey I have tasted, so it is a very sweet relationship.

My second attempt worked beautifully and we still have one split from that batch and it sits on our bookshelf.  A prized possession as the other two dozen or so bottles were shared (very few) or drunk (by me). 

After that run, I began to look into metheglin which is a spiced mead and I only do this type these days.  Mostly for the faint hint of Earl Grey and assorted spices.  No secrets here as it is a mix of nutmeg, coriander, cinnamon, and cloves.  It may be the name metheglin that sounds so cool to me to draw me in its direction.  It reminds me of the river elves in The Hobbit.

My first run of metheglin was exciting for me and at least one batch carried a faint effervescent that would pop corks at odd times.  I would be walking into my living room and wonder if our cats got into my cork stash until I walked over to our metheglin cache to find a few bottles had parted company with their seals.  Not wanting to see more wasted, I did what any sane lover of metheglin would do: I drank them! Not in one sitting, of course, but in an accelerated manner over a couple weeks.  I did add a few bottles to a then current run of metheglin and it shared it's bubbles with the next generation.  I wasn't sure of the protocol of doing that.  Wondering if I was making a generational metheglin mistake.  I had a thought of alcohol incest somewhere in my head and prayed it was not so. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately depending on the spin of the day, I tossed out that batch as a result of a moment of discord with the empress of the household.  I have since regained favor in the court and have again begun runs of metheglin!  Flavored with experience and much more patience, these batches will be my best attempts so far.