A year ago we started brewing kombucha. Okay, for a year now, we’ve sorta been brewing kombucha. Basically, I’ve been trying something and it has not been working.
Sometimes, I will plot and plan and scheme as to how something will work — in this case making continuous brewing kombucha. We do not keep our home warm enough to keep scoby happy, so The Gentleman made a beautiful water bath with a thermostat and heater that fits six half gallons of kombucha. I made up the plan and started brewing tea: we need about two bottles of kombucha a week. So, we if make two half gallons each week, cycle them through and then, voila, we would have two bottles of brewed kombucha at the end of two weeks plus starter and scoby to make two more half-gallons. Take two out, put two in, every week. Easy.
Except that it was not happening. At all. I knew this would work. It was a plan I’d put on paper, dated, done the math, cross referenced. But in the reality of life, I wasn’t doing it. Although brewing the tea is very, very simple, getting it cooled down, washing everything, schlepping the jars up and down the stairs from where we brew it to the kitchen. It wasn’t happening.
So last week, I had an epiphany (I know): Just make all the tea at once. One project every couple of weekends. It was so blooming obvious and yet I had beaten my head against that wall so many freaking times, so many. So here we go — a new beginning, a new lesson learned. Sometimes the plan is only the jumping off point. Sometimes it needs to disproved. Mostly, I think too much.