Springing Forward a Little Slowly

"Well I woke up Sunday morning,

With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.

And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,

So I had one more for dessert.

Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,

And found my cleanest dirty shirt.

An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,

An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day..."

This weekend ditty—Sunday Mornin' Coming Down—brought to you by Beveridge Place Pub's Barleywine Bacchanal, which wrapped up last night but can still be felt today. (Our favorite NW offering: Water Street's Old Wookie.) 'Til next year, you most sweet, smoky temptress of brews.