BANG!!!
Karen leaned her head towards the cellar. No more explosions were forthcoming.
"The boards worked."
"Yes. It appears that one doesn't shatter another now."
"Four dozen bottles all at once. But now that we've got a better judge of the amount of sugar to use, and how to wire in the corks . . ."
"And storing them each in their own little space with boards between to keep them from blowing each other up . . ."
The two women embraced and smiled. The demand for "up-timer style" fizzy beer continued to expand, and the sisters had finally gotten the potter to cast the bottles thick enough, the corks to fit tight enough. They had scrounged and bartered enough cork for their next several months product, and they now knew they could re-cycle the corks if they were careful . . . and the whole concept of "deposit and return" was working out so well.
Who better to brew the up-time style beers? Who else had unlimited access to the mill? Cheap access to grains? Who else had a father who imported rice? Visions of money and lines of suitors danced in the sisters' heads. It was inevitable. It was appropriate. It was "Miller Time."