On those hot, sunny summer weekends when I don't have to go into work, I rise at the crack of noon after trying to regain sleep lost during the week.

Pushing a bow wave of mute, surly bad temper ahead of me, I shuffle downstairs to gradually resume human form and speech with the magical Dr. Jekyl elixir of coffee. Sometimes, I even remember to add water. As soon as fine motor function resumes, or when the family has had enough of my crankiness, I take up mower, weed wacker, chainsaw and hoe in series of low-intensity skirmishes that do little to restore order to the creeping green chaos of our property. I hate yard work but the holy grail that drives me through my personal hell of exhaust fumes, stinging bugs and second-degree sunburn is the knowledge that at day's end, I will be found on the front porch, watching the sun slip over the horizon through the golden prism of a well-earned beer.

Our front porch tips things back to the love side of my love/hate relationship with summer. The very moment I saw it, I made a personal commitment to become as permanent a fixture there as the steps or railing. (OK, some might point out that it doesn't have a railing yet, but it's not because I'm not sitting out there thinking about putting one on someday.) It already has a great view, nice breeze, rocking chairs, occasional company. Since one's choice of beer should always enhance, never detract, from such a fine bubble of contentment, I've made a second commitment to search for the perfect front porch beer of summer, one I can be proud to loft in salute to envious passersby.

Anxious to get started, I retired to the porch with an early contender for title, Oberon Ale, gamely shrugging off cool temperatures along with a touch of guilt at knocking off early from an already low-effort day. An American wheat ale brewed for summer by Bell's Brewery in Galesburg, Mich., with recommendations from the good folks at both Roots Market and Hy-Vee Wine and Spirits, I was eager to give it a try and was not disappointed.

Oberon Ale delivers a one-armed bandit straight of oranges - from the cool orange cap and label to the slight tint of orange color and hint of orange flavor. Pouring from the bottle produces the characteristic light sediment haze of a bottle-conditioned wheat beer, along with a head that subsides quickly, leaving an amazingly consistent Belgian lace of window screen-like uniformity that lasts to the bottom of the glass. (This becomes more fascinating the longer you stay out on the porch.)

The taste seemed a touch cloying the first time out, but when I tried it again on a much warmer day, the citrus element perfectly complemented, rather than overwhelmed, the nice bite of hops for a well-rounded flavor. If you're looking a slightly more robust beer, with a greater depth of flavor than your average pilsener or other wheat beers, you wouldn't go wrong here.

Though it remains to be seen if it will be "king of summer" when I finally call a truce with the vegetation and head indoors, Oberon Ale will remain as regular a feature of the porch as I am.

Prost!