Eucalypt and wattle filled the air, unusually, but pleasantly blending with the aroma of the sizzling rashers. And while the river had obviously peake... overnight, it still raged beyond its banks. The Prado was nowhere to be seen. "I reckon we've still got another day here at least," I said, laying an egg on top of the bacon already in Katie's bun. "It'll take a while for that river to go down." She juggled the bun lids into place. "It'll at least give us a chance to dry out these clothes.” "And. The Amish men thought otherwise.Soon, the only ones not smoking were myself and the two Elders Neufeld. I invited them to the bar. There was no coffee brewed, which was a pity, but the keg of whiskey was in it's sling. I had not yet tested the batch, so I was unsure if the bung was even set, but luck was with me. I poured three drinks and passed them out. It may be locally made, but American-Irish knew something about distilling spirits.This was excellent. The batch was single malt and aged in. More

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