As I sit typing, and sipping on my usual mint lemonade, one, I might add, that I’ve enjoyed every single night, for the past five months, and wondering how I will handle the withdrawal once my fresh mint stash runs out… Oh that’s right, I will enjoy our homemade wine… eeshh… it could prove to be a poor substitute… no matter, making it was half the fun!
It all started this past September on a bright and sunny day, when we finally decided to actually harvest the grape vine we planted a few years ago, instead of leaving it to the birds, much to our neighbours content, seeing as the birds purple poop splat all over their homes last year. Oups! My bad!
My husband, the fun loving, handsome Italian that he is, decided on a family fun project, one that probably brought him back to his own youth filled winemaking days. And, so our winery begins with plucking the fragile, plump fruit from its bee infested vines. My, husband, leaves me the heavy duty task of picking the more harassed grapes. Insert eye roll here. The following steps are just like you’d imagine, the squishing, the extracting, and the waiting. It was a lot of fun, and made me realize just how much I love manual labour. It’s weird, because I forgot, or pushed out of mind, perhaps out of fear of some imagined social stigma, that I really enjoy working with my hands. I am good at it, albeit I didn’t have acres upon acres of grapes to pick, I sort of remember strawberry picking as a kid, and the 40$ at the end of the day didn’t feel as rewarding as making my own wine. Who knows, after this, I said to my husband, we could sow our whole yard with winemaking grapes. Insert eye roll here, from him, not me!
So here are a few pictures to commemorate the day. Notice that my daughter is always at the forefront of the said pictures, as it should be. I will let you all know shortly if our experiment is any good. Stay tuned!