Guardian of the Grape
It's that time of year when the annual battle between me and other denizens of the northwoods is engaged for the fruits of the field. I have learned to watch attentively as a few days can mean the difference between a nice harvest and nothing....seemingly, unlike me, other locals do not receive any gratification from sharing. There are enough wild blackberry patches to keep everyone happy and I've already picked a peck (I've always wanted to use that phrase, but admittedly the opportunity rarely arises. Sunday pop quiz: What the heck is a peck anyway?). However, my lone grape vine which I rescued and rejuvenated through some judicious and harsh pruning upon my arrival has been a bit trickier. A few years ago, I lost every bunch on the vine the very night before I was going to pick them. This was frustrating. And tho they are Concord grapes (certainly the derivation of the phrase "sour grapes"), it makes me feel a bit heroic as I force a handful down and convince myself that they're pretty good.
In any event, I decided to hire the above fellow last year to keep an eye on things for me. He did such a good job that I decided to rehire him and though it is admittedly seasonal work, it bears some resemblance to the Napa Valley from whence he supposedly hails. (Perhaps you know him, Karen.) And, lest anyone be concerned, he is legal and would be eligible under the new immigrant rules in any event. I am also paying his benefits. So far, things progress well and I am happy to say that I have a record number of bunches ripening. I may give him a bonus.
Guardian of the Grape
It's that time of year when the annual battle between me and other denizens of the northwoods is engaged for the fruits of the field. I have learned to watch attentively as a few days can mean the difference between a nice harvest and nothing....seemingly, unlike me, other locals do not receive any gratification from sharing. There are enough wild blackberry patches to keep everyone happy and I've already picked a peck (I've always wanted to use that phrase, but admittedly the opportunity rarely arises. Sunday pop quiz: What the heck is a peck anyway?). However, my lone grape vine which I rescued and rejuvenated through some judicious and harsh pruning upon my arrival has been a bit trickier. A few years ago, I lost every bunch on the vine the very night before I was going to pick them. This was frustrating. And tho they are Concord grapes (certainly the derivation of the phrase "sour grapes"), it makes me feel a bit heroic as I force a handful down and convince myself that they're pretty good.
In any event, I decided to hire the above fellow last year to keep an eye on things for me. He did such a good job that I decided to rehire him and though it is admittedly seasonal work, it bears some resemblance to the Napa Valley from whence he supposedly hails. (Perhaps you know him, Karen.) And, lest anyone be concerned, he is legal and would be eligible under the new immigrant rules in any event. I am also paying his benefits. So far, things progress well and I am happy to say that I have a record number of bunches ripening. I may give him a bonus.