AKA my Stick Garden
Since I fancy myself a gardener and live in one of the best grape growing regions in California, I got this idea to plant a vineyard. Nothing grand just a few acres that I could manage on my own, using my four children as laborers and knowledgeable, kindly friends as experts.
So I did my research, decided on the type of grape I wanted to grow, robbed a bank (just kidding to all FBI agents reading this) and ordered my “vines”. Mind you, lots of prep went into getting my little patch of earth ready for planting, but I cheated on this part and had lots of able-bodied men working away on the task.
Finally the day arrived when my vines were to be delivered. And, of course, I wasn’t home when it happened. But later that day, I came tearing up the driveway, straining my neck to see what must surely be lots and lots of beautiful PLANTS sitting in my driveway. Nothing! I went searching and finally found, hiding behind my stables, one box. Someone else on the ranch had already opened it. As I peered in, the thought occurred to me that someone was playing a trick on me. All I saw were sticks. I looked around for the camera. I thought my family was surely hiding in the stables ready to laugh at my look of confusion. Nothing, nobody, nada. I examined the sticks more closely. They were in damp sawdust stuff and had not one of hint of life or green to them whatsoever. I almost cried thinking of all the money I had spent on sticks. Then my kindly advisor of all things ranch, grapes, etc. came walking down the hill with a huge smile on his face. “How do you like your grapevines, señora?” he asked. And I knew it was all gonna be ok.
As of this post, I’m a year and half into the process, and if I’m lucky, in another year and a half, I will have grapes that can be made into wine. So send up a little prayer to Dionysus, the god of the grape harvest and all things wine, that my stick garden will continue to thrive, and one day I will be toasting to those little sticks with my very own wine!