Birds & The Bees In The Vineyard

After my nostrils were treated to the aroma of decomposed chipmunk before breakfast (I bet you never tasted that in wine -- I tell you there's more birds, squirrels, ants, slugs and chipmunks in wine then espresso and chocolate), I recalled a song we used to sing as children in North Carolina during the last Century:

Great big globs of greasy, grimy gopher guts
Mutilated monkey meat
Little dirty birdie feet ...
That's what I had for lunch.

Bluey and I traversed rows in the vineyard looking for bees (a sign that a bird had pecked a berry) and damaged, leaking fruit. Where we found it, there was sure to be an opening in the netting and perhaps a bird himself. Bluey came across the first sparrow -- he just wants to sniff their butts, not devour them--and I was able to reach in and eventually catch and release. (I was reminded of Snoopy and Woodstock.) We came across another bird, this one lifeless. I tried to pull it out, gently, and about to rip its head off, decided to leave it in the nets. Then we came across a "yellow bird" (shown at left) which we caught, brought to the Queen as a present, then released.

Our friends the honey bees made their appearance in the vineyard the other week, and we took preemptive action against the not so friendly yellow jackets, which I hadn't encountered in the vineyard until the Queen placed yellow jacket traps deep inside a row of vines (I suggested to her to place the traps outside the vineyard). I'm not sure what kind of yellow jacket mojo the traps contain but the person who harnesses a similar hormone in humans that causes women to swarm to men is going to be rich. There is a warning on those traps not to hang them during the middle of the day when the flying stingers are active and you are likely to attract the bastards to you. Folks, there is a reason for this. Pay attention to that warning.

As I walked back to the vineyard I passed the deceased sparrow, bless his heart, whom I could not remove from the netting. He was covered with yellow jackets, and I realized that the yellow jackets would be useful in cleaning up the carcass. When I returned the next day, there was just a skeleton. As I think about it, most creatures under the sky serve some useful function.

Last night, all the neighbors in Blue-Merle Country got together to honor Joe the Wino, hero of The Wine Summit hosted by Sarah Palin earlier in the week. They slaughtered a pig and roasted it and there were more than 100 people and more than 100 bottles of wine. What do you bring as a gift to a pig-pickin' party where the host has everything? I found the answer: Stone Beer. We were proud of Joe who, according to press reports, managed not to make a fool of himself. And I was glad that he honored us by requesting our wine. "Joe, what did Sarah think of the Blue-Merle wine?"
"Well partner, she's a Syrah drinker, K Syrah, Sarah."
"Shakespeare. Good one, Joe."
"When I poured her a glass of your 2007 Petit Verdot she said it was very floral. From her purse she pulled out a bottle of Channel #19 and emptied it. Then filled it to the top with your wine and sprayed it on."
"She's got class. I'm beginning to like her."
"I told her about a good follow-on to Cash for Clunkers our tech group had come up with: 'Cash for Klunkware.'
"I don't get it."
"You see, millions of people have old computers running old software. Under this new stimulus, the government will allow Americans to turn in their old software and receive a voucher to purchase new software."
"Brilliant. And who's going to pay for it? Microsoft?" Joe doesn't like Microsoft.
"How did you know?"
Dinner was served and Joe brought out the roasted pig wearing a Banana Joe's hat, sunglasses, a long sleeve linen shirt rolled up above the pig's knuckles and a Cuban cigar. The Queen would have nothing to do with this mockery and boycotted the event, saying it would bring bad luck. As the sun set and the moon rose the coyotes in the valley woke from their slumber and gave a first call.
"Joe, with all those coyotes living in the valley on your property, isn't there a problem with them chewing your drip lines?"
"Naw, I water them with a water trough. Since I started doing that, I haven't lost a drip line." I guess it kept them from chewing our drip lines also. "Drink at Joe's" must be what the coyotes around here say.

The next morning as I walked though the vineyard and came to the spot where the chipmunk was tangled in the net I found no chipmunk; only a hole in the net. He had been ripped out by a coyote. Another useful function served by Mr. Coyote.

I irrigated the vines and where there was mildew damage in the Aglianico grapes a single droplet of grape juice emerged on a round grape, and I immediately recalled when Coyote Karen was over during the full moon and wine seemed to lactate from her as she had two purple spots at precise locations on the front of her white T-shirt. (Editor's Note: Discretion cautions us from publishing the photo.)

As I hung yellow jacket traps, yellow sticky traps (to keep an eye on the sharpshooters) and replaced 2-gallon per hour water emitters with 1-gallon per hour in an attempt to reduce the vigor of two rows of vines, the Queen busied herself raking then vacuuming the vineyard. As birds destroyed the grapes, she was cleaning the vineyard.

"Sweetie," I started out, "What would you think about fixing the holes in the nets to keep the birds out?" I suggested as gently as a man can say when he means what the hell are you doing?!
"I want to clean up. Please, go and get your own vineyard."
"Why don't you leave the leaves and the canes where they are? It's good organic material for the soil and will help control erosion when it rains."
"Why don't you leave!" When Bluey heard this he exchanged the grapes of wrath for the coolness under a giant grapefruit tree.

Well, this has become the source of a major disagreement and you can tell there's not going to be any birds and the bees between us. I began thinking of taking out a paid classified ad and tweeting: Seek vineyardista lifelong companion who likes composting and organic farming. Will work for wine and birds & the bees. As I thought about that and especially the birds and the bees part the Queen began singing a song about how it was her vineyard, and her dog, and her wine, and her awards and how I wasted her little plastic bags by filling them up with fruit scraps and coffee grinds for the stupid compost pile.... I really couldn't hear what she was saying because the silence of the vines turns the wife's song into sweet wine. When Jesus said love your enemy I think he meant wife. This is not easy.

She volunteered to go into town to purchase clothes pins to make the nets more secure and Bluey emerged from under the grapefruit tree and we cut the last row of Zinfandel and yes we put the cuttings in a neat row along the vines so the organic matter could work its way back into the soil and the rain would be slowed as it fell and trickled down the mountain carrying any topsoil that was left. Next, I put some of the cuttings behind the row in the most inaccessible part of the vineyard and she will never go there to clean it out because the access is difficult and for fear of snakes. I even made a little video of the work. Merlot Mike says it takes 3-guys to net his vineyard and it started out that way with us when we made it complicated by using gas pipes on either side and attempted to lift the netting (wrapped around a PVC pipe) over the vines which resulted in more singing by the Queen. She finally threw away the pipes and took the nets and did the netting herself while I was at my daytime job. She is barely 5 ft. tall and that was an accomplishment and I was more proud of her for the sixth time this year since Michelle Obama ran for First Lady and was proud for the first time to be an American.

The Queen returned about the time Bluey and I finished the netting and we hiked down the mountain and came to my favorite aloe which the Queen doesn't like and had apparently hacked to pieces as she stormed out. She doesn't like the aloe because it starts off cute and fits in a wine glass but as they grow they become larger than a barrel and they have sharp edges and she's always saying dig it out and I was planning to dig it out someday but not today and not this year but in a couple of years and she has taken vengeance on my favorite plant. Upon inspection I see that half the plant is eaten out by none other than Mr. Gopher -- who has been in retreat these last few months. I am pleased by this and even a gopher has his good points. As do coyotes, yellow-jackets and spouses.

I check Bluey's paws for foxtails and we go inside and the Queen has prepared sushi and an omelet made of octopus and vegetables. After lunch I top the barrels of 2008 wine which hold great promise, tasting along the way. Is this a chore?

Alvin & the Chipmunks Visit For Lunch

I dedicate this post to Vinogirl, my favorite blogger, who says I should write a book. (What she really means is she would appreciate it very much if I would leave my long posts for a novel and write quick, short, succinct posts when blogging.)

Here goes:

I was walking through the vineyard this morning and it was good. I came upon a grape-thieving chipmunk, trapped in bird netting, decomposing. As I tried to pull him out his tail released as if he were a lizard. I left him there to dry. A new ingredient in San Diego's finest boutique wine?

Preparing For Baby's Arrival & The Wine Summit

You heard about the Beer Summit held at the White House last week, but do you know about the upcoming Wine Summit? First, a recap of the vineyard news.

While waiting for the harvest of our first crop, I compared myself on Twitter to a nervous, about-to-become-a-father in the 3rd Trimester not knowing quite what to do. My comment resulted in several offers from baby goods suppliers and I began to think hosting a "berry shower" for the first crop might not be a bad idea. I could invite Joe the Wino, Merlot Mike, Coyote Karen and the whole cast of characters from Blue-Merle Country and instead of a crib they could bring a crusher destemmer. Instead of a pram, they could bring me a Gator. Instead of baby bottles they could bring me 750 ml Bordeaux green glass push up bottles. Instead of a rattle, they could bring me a shotgun. And, best of all, instead of formula they would bring fresh mother's milk from the nymph-maidens who crush the grapes at Merlot Mike's with their fine breasts when making the Fine Merlot(TM) wine he's patented. In the end, the grapes probably know best what to do, thank goodness, just like a baby swimming through the womb to this world. There was no shower, but the stork from Vintner's Vault arrived carrying more than a ton of equipment including the items mentioned above (less the milk and shotgun), and Merlot Mike saved the day by managing to haul it up the driveway with his Gator. Our cars, freshly washed for once, are now outside again, the sign of a true winemaker. And the Tempranillo grapes, now at 19 brix, probably know best what to do, just like the newborn. Harvest could be in three weeks.

With the grapes hitting 19 brix the bees arrived and the birds have multiplied. I found a large yellow bird inside the netting this morning and as I went to rescue him he fluttered through the row and escaped through a hole. The Queen reported that the bird-brained grape-vultures are crafty and now I believe her. I saw a small sparrow fly half the length of Row 11 (once again inside the netting) before making a Star Wars dive-bombing maneuver cutting 90 degrees right and out, escaping my furry.

A full moon is waxing this week and I've sent out invites to the cast of characters and thought I would also invite the world via Twitter. The idea is for people who enjoy the combination of wine and full moons to share their thoughts about moon-wine as the moon shines. The first RSVP was sent in by Obi Wan Kenobi who wrote, "That's no moon. It's a space station." Thank goodness it's not The Death Star. If you'd like to join the fun search for #moonwine on Twitter (the # mark indicates a group discussion) and tell us (and the world) what you're up to. I think I'm going to write something like: "Ladies, I just finished stuccoing the retainer wall real smooth so it won't rip your stockings as you sit and enjoy the full moon at #moonwine. If they do tear, no worries. Plenty of black-lace bird net available."

Today being Sunday I learned what Jesus meant when he said "love your neighbor." We have been taking care of our neighbor's three cats while they are out of the country. When we visited their home to feed them we found, in addition to the usual bricks in the litter box: an ant trial that extended from the cat food a mile outside; several semi-dried puddles of cat throw-up; several piles of cat "shat" in the home office (some semi-dried, some mushy fresh). Apparently, as their masters are away the cats will play, and they are pretending to go feral and not use the litter box all the time. Or more likely, they are pretty pissed off being left alone. We cleaned it up, joyfully. I love my neighbors. Really. If the Devil offered me the chance to marry the most beautiful woman in the world with one condition: I must clean her cats' litter box. It's an easy choice: No Thank You!

The Wine Summit

As for the wine summit, it all started when I went to Escondido Joe's on Friday morning for a quick cup of java on the way to my daytime job. A sign stated "Free Cup of Coffee for Anyone Named Joe" and that sounded like a good idea as it's still the Recession and I like saving a penny here and there so I told the waitress, "My name is Joe The Wino -- I kid you not." To which she replied "Oh no you're not. The real Joe the Wino is here right now." As my stomach dropped a foot caught in the lie and I stammered, Joe emerged from the washroom. I hadn't seen him in weeks. "Joe, good to see you. It's been months. How you doing?" We banged knuckles and exchanged a manly shoulder bump. It was good to see him.

"This country's headed in the wrong direction," he started. "If Congress passes this health care legislation and they start taxing me more to offer health insurance to our employees, I tell you, it will just be cheaper for me to put everyone on the government plan. We provide our team members the best insurance in the country and I'm proud of it but at some point everyone is going to be insured by the government. This country is going downhill.'

I wanted to ask him about the uninsured but I know Joe and he wants nothing to do with it so I humored him with one of my pet peeves. "You know I support the President, but I tell you, this cash for clunkers is about the stupidest thing I've heard of and it's the straw that's going to break the camel's back. Enough is enough."
"You're right. They're just taking our tax dollars and helping people buy cars they're going to buy anyhow sooner or later. What a waste of money."
"Why doesn't the government start a program to give $4,500 to farmers so they can go and trade in their wheelbarrow for a Gator?"
"And a bottle of wine for every household."
"I'll drink to that."
"Joe, I haven't seen you in a while. Where you've been? Hiking the Appalachian trail or visiting Evita in Argentina?"
"Alaska."
"You rascal! I knew it! You've been with Sarah haven't you?" As Joe was explaining to me how he's been advising Sarah Palin and donating to her election campaign in walked a policeman looking for a free cup of coffee.
"Is you name Joe?" asked the waitress.
"No, it's Captain Smith. Is your health permit displayed?"
Joe overheard the conversation and interjected, "Tell her your name is 'Jo Mama' and she'll give you a free cup," to which, Captain Smith, a police officer of color took great offense and before you could say Jammin' Joe he was in handcuffs and being escorted to the station. You know the drill by now: Captain Smith claimed that Joe was out of line and causing a raucous. Joe says he did nothing wrong and was wrongfully arrested. Sarah Palin has invited them both to Wasilla next week to see if they can settle their differences over a glass of wine. The press is already calling it the Wine Summit, and there's been great speculation about what wine Sarah will be drinking. I know Joe will throw me a bone and ask for a bottle of Blue-Merle, and Sarah being an advocate of free trade and free commerce will probably encourage the shipment of our best vintage across state lines in violation of federal and state laws to make a point of free trade and freeing the grapes.
"Joe, will she be drinking Bitch Wine?"
"She's got the balls to do it, but since it's from Australia, I think not."

"K Syrah, Sarah."

"Amen brother."

2009 Vineyard Log: The Importance of Good Records

Good record keeping is part of being a good steward of the land and a good winemaker. Keeping records is also a requirement to achieve "sustainable vineyard" designation. I've decided to post records of significant vineyard events & milestones under this journal headline, returning periodically to update. (I keep similar records of wine vintages as well.) Alas, no life and death stories today; just dreary facts. I am reminded of my friend Dr. Hugh Straley of Seattle who once observed, " When marathon runners get together they discuss their bowl movements." When I see my vineyard buddies this week I'll say, "I'm going through veraison." (I describe veraison as the grape's version of menopause as they make that transition from young, hard, green-pea to mature, luscious nectar, with heat flashes to boot.) To which the other grower asks, "What are the brix?" The Tempranillo (which means "early" in Spanish) are about 95% through veraison today, and yes I'll go out and measure the brix after I finish this post, and finish paying the bills (yes, there is that).... A few hours later.... The brix are at 15 and just for fun here's a little video showing how I picked the berries and measured the sugar.

2009 Vineyard Log

Last water in 2008 (mid-Nov., 2008)

Good rain storms November, December '08

Jan 30th started pruning in earnest, finishing February 14th (mostly)

Feb 21 - 22 (last major rain) Finished all pruning. Finished rain. Total season rainfall less than normal after getting out to a great start, about 8 inches.

Feb. 28 - March 8: Sprayed lime sulphur and oil

April:

Planted about 40 Tempranillo Vines. (About 30 of these were a mistake and will be transplanted in winter.)

Bud Break: March 21. Lower part of vineyard (Petit Sirah), first bud break. Also, lower part of Petite Sirah on less vigorous root stock are netted early July. (Much mildew damage there).

April 17: Admire Treatment First Irrigation. Glassy wing sharpshooters appear in early April. Also, in July after setting yellow traps we catch 5 sharpshooters in one week. In August, the sharpshooters are gathering around the two rows of Tempranillo vines which have found their own source of water putting out green shoots. Cannot add Admire -- too close to harvest. This could be a problem.

2nd Irrigation two weeks later. (in hindsight, this one unnecessary)

May Water Usage: 26 HCF, 53% decrease from May 08 (May weather unseasonable cool, foggy, cloudy.) Vigorous growth throughout vineyard --especially lower Tempranillo and Petit Sirah on 5C rootstock--and should be able to cut back irrigation even more next year.

Planted 18 "potted" Aglianico vines end of May to fill in gaps.

Powdery mildew developed in late May (should have been spraying. Must implement spray program next year.) Treated with 10 pounds wettable sulphur and 2.5 lbs. Kaligreen, spraying June 10 - June 17 with backpack sprayer. Sunrise Vineyards management sprays with Rubigan on June 26th (whole vineyard in less than two hours).

June--Petiole analysis of Zinfandel block. Results show nitrogen deficiency, which can be remedied by composting. (Will order compost in fall for nutrition and erosion control.)

June Water Usage: 46 HCF (15% under water rationing allotment of 54 HCF).

July 19: Tempranillo veraison, 15 brix. (Picture at top shows the berries.) Zinfandel veraison beginning. Petit Sirah, heavily damaged by mildew, seems mostly a lost cause. Many Petit Sirah bunches "tight"--need to address. Aglianico -- just a few grapes turning. Aglianico crop is light, and we may decide not to pick. Grenache grapes still green; lost 1/2 to mildew. Promising harvest this year is Tempranillo and Zinfandel.

July Water Usage (7/6 - 8/5): 42 HCF (Allocation was 63 HCF). Except for one week of "hot weather" the week of July 18th, weather has been unseasonable cool.

August 1st: Tempranillo at 19 brix (100+ berry sample); taste is still tart. Will we be harvesting in 3 weeks? Petit Sirah lower block is already ready, but since block is small, holding back. Two lower rows of Tempranillo have found a water source, putting out green shoots. (Not good.) Must cut irrigation to them next year. Birds are finding holes in nets and penetrating, causing damage. Bees have arrived. Irrigated 1.5 hours (2 gallon/hr) this week. (Just one hour last week.) Zinfandel at 70% veraison. Grenache at 50% veraison. Aglianico still mostly green. Will drop most of the fruit. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

August 7th: Zinfandel finishes veraison. Aglianico veraison beginning.

August 14: Tempranillo at 22 brix (100+ berry sample with hydrometer); pH=3.63; acid= .787 Zinfandel block at 19 brix; pH=2.98; acid = 1.54 Caught and released 5 birds today that had penetrated the nets. Grenache veraison complete. Last, light watering of Tempranillo (one hour) August 16th. Cool for 6 days, not much ripening.

August 26 (Weds): Tempranillo at 24 brix. pH= 3.75 acid (TA) = .7 Acid test done with Accuvin quick test, so accuracy is questionable. I also question accuracy of pH meter. (Will need to recalibrate.) Temperatures have warmed up since Sunday into the mid-80s, reaching 90+ today. No water last weekend. Grapes are ripening quickly now. Many (but not all) of the grapes damaged by birds have become sweet raisins. This may add "jam" characteristics to the wine and raise sugars.

Last week in August heat wave. Temperatures climbed above 90, close to 100 degrees. Zinfandel grapes dehydrating and at 26 brix on Saturday. Watered for one hour on Saturday to try and bring down the sugars. Mad rush to harvest the Tempranillio & Zinfandel last Sunday in August. (One container 1/2 full of Zin grapes left in vineyard ... must thoroughly check next year, and remind friends/pickers to bring grapes to the center of the vineyard, dumped ton larger containers, which can be easily transported downhill.) Tempranillo come in at 25 brix. Zinfandel come in at 27 brix and cold soak to 28 brix the next day. pH's of Zinfandel & Tempranillio are high. May need to water more next year during August to prevent such rapid ripening, but we'll see. The new wines made from these groups are fruit forward, and taste surprising good for new vines. About 1,100 pounds of Tempranillo, 500 lbs. Zinfandel, 100 lbs. Aglianico are harvested that Sunday. Mid-week, we harvest the Petit Sirah (about 400 lbs.) and the next Saturday (Sept. 5th) the Grenache. Full account of the wines (including brix, TA and pH is kept in the 2009 vintage log.) Some remaining Aglianico grapes/raisins used to raise sugar of Ramona Brunello grapes and Valley Center Petit Sirah grapes.

September watering: heavy watering after harvest. Seems to have been much stress on some of the vines, because of heat wave. Will need to see how they recover. Removed emitters from over vigorous vines near leach fields; and gave .5 gallon emitters to some other vines near leach field.

Sharpshooters in lower part of vineyard (Tempranillo mostly, some Petit Sirah vines) in August concentrated on over-vigorous vines. This is serious. Not sure yet of damage caused and extent of Pierce's disease infection. (Until now, it seems we've lost about 3 vines to PD.)

November 1, 2009 - Last deep watering. Water usage for October, including Nov. 1st watering was 35 HCF. Bill for October watering is $135.82 (Bill for September watering is )$173.62.

Education: Took Pete Anderson's course at Mira Costa Community College on Vineyard Management. Attended sustainability seminar put on by California Winegrower's Institute and am completing self-assessment.

More later.

Growing Grapes Is For The Birds. Or Maybe Not.

I've been thinking about nets and their useful purposes. An African man and woman demonstrate a mosquito net for life at the Episcopal National Convention explaining how millions of lives can be spared from malaria with an inexpensive, simple net. Earlier in the week when serving breakfast at a food bank I wore a net over my head and not one hair from my follicular-challenged scalp fell into the salad. And as I wrapped and tied nets around the first rows of vines, my mind dreamed of black lace stockings on a loved one's legs.....

Back to reality: As the vines in Blue-Merle Country were the first to break bud back in March I shouldn't be surprised that the grapes are already turning purple and flocks of birds gathered in the Poplar trees at vineyard's edge to plan their assault. To the disappointment of the perfectionist Queen, our Bluey, the Australian sheep dog and 9-time award winning winemaker, is not a "bird" dog and proved useless. (As a distant cousin of Wiley Coyote, he's only interested in the Road Runner and Bugs Bunny.) There was nothing to do but take a break from the cluster thinning, the mildew cursing and the leaf pulling to bring down one of the nets purchased from Sandra of Old Coach Vineyards.

Now Sandra is very conscientious about the nets, and she had rolled them meticulously on a PVC pipe. By attaching a metal pipe to either end of the PVC pipe, two people can stand on either side of a row of vines and unwrap the netting on top of the vines. For the fourth time since Michelle Obama ran for First Lady I am really proud of my wife as we were able to unroll the net successfully until we came to the growing oak tree in the middle of the vineyard which created an obstacle we surmounted. When there wasn't a tree in the way the net unwound smoothly and we'd go back and pull the net from the top of the vines and join them underneath with ties. And it was tying those nets that I was reminded of manipulating black laced stockings another time of my life ....

Back to reality: The vines are not thick and not overgrown at the lower part of the vineyard but four rows are a veritable jungle rain forest and you never know what lurks in the midst. A pack of rabid coyotes? An escaped bear from a circus? The lair of the neighborhood mountain lion? There is a school of thought that says you don't cut back vigorous vines, because it will just force growth into laterals. And there is another school of thought that says it would be nice to be able to walk down the rows and we need to let light and air pass through as a hindrance to the return of mildew. We decided to ask an expert for advice and he said go ahead and "trim" them -- note the word "trim". So that Queen of ours took her machete and she went on a rampage and began hacking, sawing and cutting vines. Now this woman is not very tall, so she was cutting the vines under the top wire in some cases and what we were left with looked like a well hedged garden wall from the castle at Versailles. She had given the vines a military crew cut and they looked good enough to start charging admission to let the neighbors have a look. But are there enough leaves left to allow photosynthesis and the maturation of a sweet, delicious grape so that the Blue-Merle can make more wine and win more competitions than Tiger Woods and Roger Federer? Maybe I should just grow grapes for the birds. That is, after all, what mademoiselle vine wants to do, all decked out in her black lace stockings.

I have these nets and I might as well use them. I think I'll also borrow Joe the Wino's shotgun as it gets closer to the harvest just to give the crows a little warning now and then. Nevermore. Nevermore will you dine on the fruit of the vine. Meantime, Sandra from Old Coach Vineyards will have established colonies of hummingbirds in her vineyard to ward off other birds, and she'll identify which birds are in her vineyard and broadcast recordings of their distress call. As for us, "Owl" Gore -- our very capable barn owl, only works at night and is focused on field mice and everyone else's gophers except ours. Perhaps what I need is a great horned owl (code name: "Horney" Clinton), to chase the birds. But how will we keep this guy from taking down the laced stockings of mademoiselle vine?

(How would you suggest we deal with the birds in Blue Merle Country?)

Cancer Discovered In The Vineyard: Powdery Mildew

This is not funny. Really. It's as bad as the consequences of unsafe sex. There's a cancer in the vineyard. And it was as easy to prevent as eating broccoli, brushing a dog's teeth or using a condom.

Was it a result of playing golf on Sunday instead of vineyarding? Was it the revenge of the Three Priests for skipping Church? Did three weeks of unseasonably cool weather, thick fog and drizzle create ideal conditions for it?

There are simple rules in this life: eat your vegetables; check the dog's toes for foxtails; spray your vineyard. Two out of three ain't good enough.

At daybreak Monday Bluey & I went to the lower part of the vineyard where I hadn't been for a while and noticed a bunch of Petit Sirah with white frosting. I cut it off. Then noticed it on another bunch. Mission control, we have a problem: Powdery Mildew.

My experiment in not spraying the vineyard has been terminated with extreme prejudice.

The temperature stayed below 70 degrees today so the infestation did not spread, much. I should have been out in the vineyard holding hands this evening with my sweetheart watching the midsommar sunset and the full-moon rise but instead I was rushing to cut leaves to open up the canopy and scrambling to the top of the hill to fill a backpack sprayer with 4-gallons of water and X-amount of wettable sulphur. The directions said to apply 2 lbs. - 10 lbs. per acre of grapes and we have two acres planted but it doesn't say a thing about how many grams of sulphur to add per liter of water or how many ounces per gallon. So I took my best guess and stirred in the brown powder which disolved nicely in the water and put the sprayer on my back and pumped the handle to build pressure and nothing came out. What next? Momentarily deflated, but not defeated, I sent out an SOS to Coyote Karen to borrow her sprayer and I suggested to the Queen that we call Fidel to help us spray and she started singing her song:

That Fidel I am

That Fidel I am

I do not like that Fidel I am

And the Kabuki play continued about how it's her vineyard and if I think for a minute I have anything to do with it or if it's half-mine then she's leaving or "you should go to China" and she's carrying on about Fidel this (it's his fault the valves are leaking!) and Fidel that (he owes me $2,000 for the work he didn't do!) while the Man in the Moon is coming up and Bluey (bless his heart a dog without a tail) puts his stub between his legs and finds a corner to ride out the storm. This is why hurricanes have female names. Peace is restored when I lie that it's 100% her vineyard, pour her a glass of wine (instead of cutting her off) and promise not to call Fidel, that rascal.

The good news is that the mildew is located in the lower part of the vineyard and we can still save most of the Tempranillo, all of the Zinfandel and all of the Grenache. I have tasted award winning Tempranillo wine made from 3-year old San Diego vines and our vines are ready and willing to give us grape. Philosophically, my wanting to save the grapes is a good thing but if I loose them then I should just give them up because it's just a possession and possessions are temporary and in the end we're just ashes and the vines wither. I'm a mother with a baby inside and despite what the queen says it's my vineyard too and I'm fearful of a miscarriage and so I'm fighting.

Questions: If a bunch of grapes have a little bit of Powdery Mildew can they be saved? How much wettable sulphur powder should I add per gallon?

Take That Post and Shove[l] It!

I broke another end post this evening and this time it wasn't my fault. Really. Now please tell me the best way to repair it.

The first post was demolished last year when the pick up truck slid off the mud path at the top of the hill and careened down the vineyard resting against the post. (For the record, this post was broken by the rescue crew when they wrapped their pulley wire around it as leverage to yank the truck out). As this was before The Recession and before the Queen had spent the last of our life savings on 47 Phoenix canariensis palm trees and before the college raised the Princess' tuition above $50K/year, we let Fidel and the guys fix it.

The 2nd post was knocked down by the branches of a falling pepper tree I chopped down. Now that was stupid and my fault. And this time, there was no one to repair it but yours truly, the guy who still can't tie a slip knot. Those were the days of economic woe when men became men and relearned the arts of self reliance and I figured out how to wrap wire around a pole, connect two wires with a gripple and use the gripple/wire tensioning device. No matter how much the Queen dislikes Fidel, I'll say he sure does good wiring. My work was not as elegant as his. But we repaired the pole before the vines burst their buds in spring and it's still standing and I was proud. That was the day I earned my rite-of-passage to the order of vineyardistos.

Unlike dominoes, which, when the first one falls they all fall, the felling of an end post is not as great a catastrophe as I had feared, and to which I can now attest as, regrettably, I have become something of an expert in this area. What happens is the vines between the end post and the next trellis stake loose their support; but the vines after the support stake hang in there.

I am in denial when I say the demise of the third pole this evening was not my fault. In fact, pride was my downfall. I was so proud of myself that I had finally figured out how to use the wire tightening device, that, after coming home from work on Tuesday I said to the Queen, "Let's go tighten some loose wires and I'll show you how to do it." So Bluey, Her Highness and I (sans Fidel) marched to the top of the hill and I attached the wire tightening device to the gripple, grabbed the wire, pulled and tightened. Vines shifted and the wire straightened. Then, I pulled in the other direction tightening again.

As I inspected the vines, I noticed the wire had become more loose away from the center where I was tightening. That was odd. Was I doing something wrong? I called the Queen and asked her to check my logic: "If I'm shortening the length of the wire, then the wire should be getting tighter, right?" To show her, I attached the tightening device to the gripple, pulled and tightened again. We walked down the row and as I approached the end, indeed, the line was even more loose than before. "How could that be?" I asked in disbelief.

"Look at the end post!" she said (without adding "you idiot"), and then I realized it was broken. Had I pulled too tight? Was the pole rotten from being close to water? Had termites destroyed it? It was too dark to tell. I held up the pole while the Queen ran down the mountain to the garage to bring back wire cutters and we cut the wires, removed the pole and left four vines at the mercy of rabbits who will find a feast of vines if they venture to the area. At this point night had fallen and we headed down the mountain and there was a bottle of Old Coach Vineyards decanted wine waiting for us after I brushed Bluey, checked his paws for foxtails, and set the mouse traps for the evening.

The morning inspection revealed that the rabbits were merciful to the prostrate vines and that the post was not rotten. I noticed there was no concrete at the top of the hole area, so my suspicion is that the hole was not filled with enough concrete during installation. (For the record, we used 10 ft. poles on this section and an auger that drilled into the DG at least 3 ft. The standard practice was to add 2 bags of cement per hole.) I suspect I pulled too tightly on the top wire putting tremendous pressure on the post. But what do I know?

What do you think happened and how do you suggest we replace the end post and repair the wires?

San Diego's Fillies Win in Wine: Old Coach Vineyards

Fillies are winning more than major horse races. They are making kick-ass vineyards better than the guys. Winemaker's Journal kicks off a series of reports on "San Diego Women in Wine" with Sandy from Old Coach Vineyards.

Sandy's European grandmothers, who were winemakers, allowed her to taste wine in their cellars as a young child, planting the seeds which sprouted into Old Coach. The founding of her winery goes back 20 years when the 41-acre property was acquired at the end of a dirt road surrounded by nothing. (Encroaching development has it situated a T-shot from the renowned Maderas Golf Club in Poway, CA.) Founded as a llama ranch in 1988, Sandy planted her first vines in 2003, and she's still planting. Over 5 scenic acres of Syrah, Petit Syrah, Grenache, Cabernet, Mourvedre, Tempranillo vines and more recently Italian clones including Primitivo and Nebbiolo. She, and other San Diego vintners, see a bright future for "the Italian" varietals grown in the region, and she planted another 600 Aglianico potted vines last week. The llamas, house, winery and most of the vines survived the October 2007 wildfires inspiring the name for the 2007 "Firestorm" blend.

The building housing the former llama nursery, six llama stalls and the vet lab has been converted into the crush pad, fermentation and bottling space. Sandra used her Bobcat to create an impressive naturally cooled cellar into the hillside which contains the cellaring operations. Like many winemakers these days, Old Coach uses 100-gallon and 300-gallon flex tanks, the Australian pioneered breathable tanks which are easy to maintain and allow for micro-oxidation of the wine as if it were in oak barrels. The attention to detail and quality in the cellar, vineyard and wine are impressive. Early on, she threw out a batch of Zinfandel made from three year old vines, because it didn't meet her standards (I bet the coyotes howled in delight!) "We've found that by aging wine for two years before bottling the results are better," she said.

During a tour of the vineyard, Sandra mentioned she watered the vines 3 times a week (an unusual routine not often encountered by Winemaker's Journal). Two emitters are on either side of each vine, and Pete Anderson, vineyard instructor from Mira Costa Community College suggested that the vine roots had grown into a ball near the surface (since deep watering was not used). Pete recommended she experiment with deep watering on one row once a week.

Determining the correct amount of water to use has been a real challenge at the site, because of granite domes and impenetrable rock formations not far under the surface. Despite the adverse conditions, with Sandy's perseverance the vineyard has taken hold.

Sandy loves to drive her Bobcat. Not only did she dig out the cave, she used it to terrace the land and dig holes for the end posts. She grew up on a farm in the Midwest, so farming is in her blood, and she does much of the vineyard work herself. A thick, leaf-dripping fog you can almost swim in has swept in this evening, and she's itching to get on her tractor and spray the vines to protect them from a mildew infestation.

When I visited again a few days later, she was strapped into the Bobcat, drilling post holes with an auger into compact decomposed granite. "See what I have to work with," she says about the lousy soil.

She decided to forgo nets three years ago, and establishes colonies of humming birds with feeders placed strategically throughout the vineyard. "Humming birds are aggressive and will keep away the other birds," she says. She also employs a computerized sound system that emits various bird distress calls. "I'll be out there and it will sometimes sound like a bird is getting killed -- but it's just the recording of a bird in distress. I've selected bird calls on microchips specific to the species we have in the vineyard, and it works. We don't start using the recordings until as late as possible -- otherwise the birds will catch on [that they're being tricked]."

Sandy and her son Jason (a certified financial planner during the day and 4th generation winemaker) have won 25 awards in San Diego's and Orange County's annual wine competitions which encouraged them to get bonded and begin selling their wines. I purchased one of their 2006 Petit-Sirah's on-line for $25 and was not disappointed and Bluey (cellar master of our winery) gave it 3-licks (always a good sign) and the wife and I fought over the last glass (always a good sign). Since there is no tasting room for the public, the wines are sold through an on-line cellar club, over the Internet and to a few upscale restaurants.

An award winner. One of San Diego's finest. Founded and run by a woman. Old Coach Vineyards.

Advice For Bluey the Wine Dog at 50

Bluey, cellar master of Blue-Merle Winery, hero of The Gopher Wars and Chevalier de Legion de Vin de Chiens qui But, is 50 years old today. It was seven years ago (human years) on Memorial Day Weekend when the Queen caved in to the young Princess, "OK, we can get a dog." Before she changed her mind (again) we picked up the paper, turned to the classifieds and started looking for puppies. This method was slightly less scientific than our Commander & Chef and the results were quite unexpected. We started with A. "Hmmm.... Australian Shepherd," I announced. "Those were the dogs in the movie Babe." (In fact, those were Border Collies. What little did I know.)

"Oh daddy, daddy, let's get one. I'll feed him every day and walk him," said the Princess. "I promise," she lied.

I called the breeder. "Are those dogs good with kids?"

"Yes, but they might nip at their heels and try to herd them, but they love children."

"OK, hold one. We're on our way." So we piled into the white sedan and drove an hour from the coast into the hot, dusty, dry, country to the breeder's. This little pup with blue eyes came trotting out. "Oh daddy, daddy, he's so cute, let's get him," said the Princess. "I'll brush him every day," she lied. Even the Queen liked him, so they put him into the car, on which he promptly peed. He was a keeper. I took out my checkbook.

"He's a Blue-Merle," said the breeder. "That's $100 extra."

"A blue what?" I didn't know. I didn't care. The Queen & Princess were happy, and I wanted to get this deal done before she changed her mind (again). I wrote the check and we sped off into a future of marathons, vineyards and wine I couldn't foresee which he brought about.

I called up my friend Barry in Australia, whose business partner is also named Barry.

"I'm going to call this dog Barry in honor of you guys unless you come up with a better name."

Barry said, "That dog will change your life." He knew what he was talking about. "Bluey means swag man in Australian." I liked the name. His eyes were blue. He was a Blue-Merle, whatever that was. And the Princess liked the name, too. Bluey, the Swagman. Seven years ago.

I reckon Bluey is 50 years old now in dog years, so here's my advice to him for the next 50 years. (He'll have his chance to give me his advice in July when I turn 50.)

Bluey, you're 50 years old, and it's time to grow up and start acting your age. Here's my advice:

1. Stop eating grapes during harvest. You'll kill your liver.

2. Keep brushing your teeth every night.

3. Don't let other dogs lick your zi-zi in public. It's sooooooo embarrassing.

4. Stop dreaming about making puppies doggie-style with a bitch. It's not going to happen. (And keep your paws off of the beautiful ladies in the neighborhood, too.)

5. Stop asking for permission to go out with the coyotes at night. The answer is no.

6. Cats are not dogs. They don't like having their butts sniffed. Stop trying.

7. If you promise not to tell the Queen, I'll give you the steak bone.

8. I know you think I'm a lost lamb and you have this compulsion to follow me, but you better go to the Queen to snuggle up once in a while.

9. Would you mind to stay away from foxtails?

10. Watch your weight. (See # 11.)

11. Would you mind to stop leaping from 4 ft. walls?


12. Life is too short for bad wine; only taste the good stuff.

13. We're so grateful for the joy you have given us -- please stay away from snakes!

I've spent all my money on wine, women and vet bills, the rest of it, well, there was nothing left. Glad to spend it on you, pal. Here's to another 50 years, cheers!

What advice do you have for Bluey (and the author) on the occasion of their 50th birthdays?

Managing Our Precious Resource: Water

There's an old saying that good wine is made in the vineyard. To which I add great wine is made by blending. But you can't make any wine without water, at least when you're a grower in Southern California and you don't have old vines that don't need irrigation. With the advent of water restrictions, another dry year and the prospects of global warming, water management is critical. As a grower with a small backyard vineyard the tools I use to determine when it's time to water are 1) looking at the vines (economical, but not very scientific) 2) perhaps a simple tensiometer 3) wait for the Queen who manages our vineyard to plead for the third time to water her vines. I was curious what tools the big boys are using so drove up to Temecula's 100-acre Maurice Carrie Vineyard to meet with Gus Vizgirda, the vineyard manager, winemaker and all-around-good-guy.

The picnic table outside the Victorian farm house had several soil samples in jars. Gus had take the samples, added water, shaken, and allowed the samples to settle, giving him an idea of the composition and percentages of clay, loam and silt in various spots of the vineyard. (Now that's something I can do at home.)

Gus had taken another soil sample and inserted it into a 5ft plastic, see-through tube to the 3-feet level. Pouring water into the tube, he's able to see how deep, and at what speed water is able to penetrate the soil. Gus has found that at his location, he's better off with a very long watering in the beginning of the watering season followed by short waterings later. Because of the initial deep watering, later waterings are able to penetrate the soil better, he said.

Gus' choice for emitters are two @ 1/2 gallon/hour on each side of the vine. Several C-probes, at $2,000/each, are placed 3ft. below the soil surface to measure moisture content and transmit signals to a computer. Gus gets computerized reports showing him green zones and red zones indicating when it's time to water and spray for powdery mildew. (The computer takes temperature readings and calculates when mildew pressure is growing and it's time to spray.) I've heard of other growers who integrate Twitter into such a system so the vines send a tweet when they need water.

Most Temecula Valley growers are on "city water" and coped with a 30% water cut last year. They are likely to face an additional 10% reduction this year. Their land does not include water rights unlike most growers in Ramona (San Diego County) who are on well water. Hence, the investment in water management tools, because you can't make the best possible wine in Southern California without judiciously applying a little water.

What tips and suggestions do you have for managing water use in the vineyard?