“Striving for success without hard work is like trying to harvest where you haven't planted” David Bly

The adventures that continue to occur at the rancho boggle one's mind.  Keep in mind the romantic image that is continually in this hopeless romantic ranch manager's head of one day establishing a vineyard, strolling down the rows of the perfect, beautifully purple grapes, while holding a glass full of our favorite wine, all the while, incredible food from this very rancho is awaiting on the patio, perhaps a dish of home-grown, marinated olives, perhaps some grilled garlic bread drizzled with our own olive oil, perhaps some melted goat cheese drizzled with jams made from figs and peppers grown at this very farm.  We are inching ever closer, but there is always that frequent hair-raising incident that nearly causes one to get in the car, drive away, and never come back.

Last week, in preparing for the 2011 harvest of the newbie Petite Sirah (which we should never do, yes, yes, it has been noted, but it was too tempting), we decided to take that stroll through the vineyard at sunset, take some photos of our grapes, and essentially, live the dream.  Now, to most experienced ranchers, that would cause them to pause and probably quip, "I wouldn't do that if I were you," but then they would let you learn the lesson, and learn we did.  Lesson No. 5,378:  Snakes head out at dawn and dusk to hunt.  Lesson No. 5,379 is to thoroughly poke all netting -- even on fruit trees -- with a stick to make sure there isn't a rattlesnake curled up in it.  We have had so many brushes with rattlesnakes in one week and learned so many lessons that, now, we're afraid to venture outside.

However, we rallied enough to be able to get out the next day and pick the Petite Sirah and to crush it and it is happily on its way through fermentation.  In the meantime, the olive oil has been bottled, shrink wrapped, and labeled, the olives have been jarred, the jams have been made, and the lavender continues to be processed.  

As was mentioned, glimpses of the dream becoming a reality are becoming more frequent.  Will one ever see this ranch manager outside barefoot?  Not on your life.  Will one ever view us relaxing?  Probably not.  The only one more neurotic than one of us is the other.   What is next on the horizon for you ranchers and wanna-be winemakers?  The ever-troublesome Zinfandel, probably close to a half-ton of it, which means we'll need to "man" up, put on our snake-proof boots, wear gloves, and pack plenty of weaponry, and get out and just do it, as Nike says.  

There is a certain serenity rarely experienced by most here at the rancho, which is occurring at this very moment.  It is silent, except for the wind whispering through the trees, together with the faint strains of the Italian Baroque master, Francesco Maria Vera's Sonata No. 1 in D, the sun is just lingering over the hills, and a glass of wine and the dream beckon.  

Happy Harvest 2011!

The Ranch Manager