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 have been planted with Syrah, Petit Syrah, Grenache, Cabernet, Mourvedre, Tempranillo and more recently with Italian clones including Primitivo and Nebbiolo. She, and other vintners in San Diego, see a bright future for "the Italians" 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 an 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 that 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 to 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?

Stressed Vines & Banks

We were hit by a heat wave this week with the mercury topping 95 degrees. The good news: I don't have to spray because temperatures that high will set any mildew fungus back. And, because we irrigated last Friday to apply the AdmirePro chemical against the disease-carrying sharpshooters, there was moisture in the ground and the vines raced upwards, some of them clearing the top wire. Still, with temperatures that hot this early in the season I went out at dawn to inspect which vines had passed the stress test. At the bottom of the vineyard where the soil is more fertile and the temperatures somewhat cooler the tendrils of the growing vines point to the sky. Boy do they look great. But as I climb higher up the hill I notice some tired tendrils, their arms only parallel to the ground or drooping. Stressed vines and perhaps in need of water next weekend.

I ripped out my first zombie vine on Sunday. It was diseased and not functioning properly and it had to go. I replanted a new vine in its place. With thoughts of zombie vines and stressed vines in my head, as I walked through the vineyard I imagined the upcoming conversation with my banker who is deciding the fate of our business. We've been incorporated over 11 years and have had a line of credit with the bank for 11 years and we pay our bills and have a FICO score of 800. The bank has suggested via letter that we pay back the line of credit. Now. And, they haven't been responsive to my idea of a creative bank swap: cash for wine.

I'm filling out the application to renew the line of credit and sign a personal guarantee. There are questions about my assets. "What should I put down for my house value?"

"How much did you pay for it?" my personal banker asks.

"$750,000 -- then we put in improvements and the vineyard worth more than $80K so the house is worth $830,000."

"Hold on," he says and goes to a computer screen, types in my zip code, square footage and frowns. "According to the computer, your house is only worth $495,000. You're underwater."

"Can't be," I respond. "Your computer looks at all houses in the zip code, not just the houses in Blue-Merle Country." He scowls and finally decides to write-down the value 35% which still puts us underwater. (So much for my equity helping me out renew the line of credit.)

"How much did your business earn last year?" he asks.

"We broke even. But as you know, I took what expenses I could to reduce taxable income from my daytime job." More frowns. Then I had an idea. "Why don't you let me calculate my assets and income the same way banks do?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, let me use the same accounting principles approved by the Financial Accounting Standards Board."

"Go on."

"Well, using the same methods approved by the FASB for banks my house is worth $830,000, which means I have equity many times over to pay back your line of credit. According to FASB rules for banks, I can value my assets at their fair value, as I determine it, just like you guys. As houses in my neighborhood sold for over $1 million three years ago, and as I have invested at least $830,000 in our house and vineyard, then it's worth at least $830K, right?" He nodded. "And don't forget the ocean view," I added. He was beginning to warm up, and at that point, I pulled out my secret weapon: a sample from the barrel that had popped its bung last night to let him taste a bit of what the bank was allowing us to produce. The 2008 "Merleatage" a blend of Petit Verdot, Cabernet Franc and Malbec. After the third sip, he began to loosen up. "This is good," he said.

"I told you it was good. It gets better. Let me give you," I suggested, "A statement of my earnings for Q1 this year using the new accounting principles."

"What do you have in mind."

"Do you remember the 47 palm trees my wife purchased last year?" He nodded. "A phoenix canarius palm sold for $10,000 two years ago. We have 47 of them. That's a future asset value of $470,000. " I poured him another two ounces of wine and continued. "We paid $49 each for those trees. So, our profit is $467,697 from that transaction alone, enough to pay back your line of credit ten times. It shows in my Q1 income statement and you'll have no problem getting my loan approved."

He thought for a minute and I poured him another taste and he said, "You know, I'm thinking we should increase your line of credit instead of canceling it."

"Now you're talking."

At that point the branch manager comes in, sees the bottle of Blue-Merle wine on the table and calls the subordinate into his office. I realize the gig is up and prepare for the worst, log onto Twitter on my iPhone and type: "Attention wine lovers. XX Bank forecloses vineyard & kicks out dog. Withdraw your money on Friday. Thanks from @bluemerlewinery " I have this message prepared to send if they attempt to foreclose. The tweet heard round the world, when the people punished the banks!

I realize I've spent another hour in the vineyard and it's time to stop pulling shoots and get to my daytime job where the real life banker calls to say they've decided to convert the line of credit to a 4-year fixed at a low interest rate. This is good news--neither my vines nor banker are zombies--and I'm bottling up wine this evening to drop off at the bank as a thank you gift and to plant the seeds so they'll be there to finance us when we're ready to take on The French!

Grafting Grape Vines

Enough of the stories and back to the vineyard and a lesson on grafting vines brought to us by Pete Anderson, who knows more about grape varietals than just about anyone in San Diego. Pete, among other things, teaches a course on vineyard management at Mira Costa Community College and last Saturday gave his students a demonstration on grafting at his backyard laboratory. As a guy who still can't tie a slip knot (and working on my third vineyard installation), one key thing I learned from Pete is that he makes two parallel cuts into the vine where the graft is to be inserted which doubles the odds that the graft will take. (When John the Avocado Grower and I tried grafting an avocado tree last Thanksgiving we only made one cut and failed.) Pete is also an accomplished winemaker and after the demonstration (and the knives had been put away) he brought out 7 different bottles of wine to taste. (Pete generously gave each of us a bottle to take home so we didn't fight over the leftovers.) Below is a summary written by Pete on the grafting procedure along with a video clip. When doing this at home watch your fingers!

Grafting Grape Vines By Pete Anderson

TIME TO GRAFT
Field grafting should take place when the bark slips as the vines begin new growth.

1st STEP - TRUNK PREPARATION

Cut the truck to 4 inches below the desired head height. If trunk diameter is small use loppers; if not use a chainsaw.

Using a fine toothed pruning saw, make 2 horizontal cuts on opposite sides at the base of the trunk -- these cuts will relieve the sap pressure that could cause the graft sticks to be pushed out.

2nd STEP - BUD STICK PREPARATION
Prepare the bud stick of the varietal to be grafted. Make sure you prepare only the amount to be grafted that day and keep them moist.

Bud sticks usually will have 5 - 7 nodes - using hand pruner cut them into 2-bud lengths. Caution: Make sure the orientation of the cane (bud stick) is maintained upward. Just as in potting, a cane grafted in the downward orientation will not take. The lower end should be at least 2" long; the top end should be cut at a 90 degree angle not less than 1/2" above the node.

3rd STEP - TRUNK FACE CUTS
Using a grafting knife make face cuts parallel to the vine row on opposite sides at the top of the trunk. The length of these cuts should be similar to the length of the lower end of the bud stick. The cuts will remove the outer surface of the trunk exposing the cambium. At the bottom of the face cut, make a diagonal incision approximately 30 degree angle deep enough to allow the base of the bud stick to be inserted.

Make another diagonal incision half way up the face.

4th STEP - BUD STICK CUTS
Make a long diagonal cut on one side of the lower end of the bud stick the same length as the face cut on the trunk. Turn the bud stick over and make a sharp diagonal cut at the lower tip creating a sharp edge. Make a small incision on the bud stick face cut that will match the incision made on the trunk face cut.

5th STEP - FIT BUD STICK ONTO TRUNK
Tap the bud stick using the grafting knife handle into the angle cuts on the trunk. Important: Cambium layers of trunk and bud stick must be in contact. It is best to have the bud stick positioned to one side of the face cut, not centered on the face cut.

6th STEP - SEAL GRAFT
Using grafting tape (1/2" works best) tightly wrap the graft making sure the bud sticks are in contact with the trunk. Seal the entire graft area with Henry Tree Seal or similar sealant. Also, put some seal on the bud stick tip.

7th STEP - MONITOR GRAFT
In order to prevent the graft stick from being pushed out of contact with the trunk cambium, frequently check the small incisions at the bottom of the trunk to insure the sap pressure is being relieved. If any bleeding is seen in the area of the graft, new trunk cuts should be made to relieve the pressure.

Coyote Karen Stricken With Vineyarditis

Coyote Karen who owns the perfect micro vineyard in Blue-Merle Country got a crazy idea in her head. Plant more vines. The little vineyard she has right now at 250 vines is a wonderful size, produces more than a barrel of juice and can be considered a "hobby." Adding 500 - 700 more vines and this vineyardista will be looking at a career change. I think she's been bitten by some glassy-winged sharpshooter (or vampire?) who's given her "crazy lady disease." That's what happens to strong women who live in the country too long. Next thing you know she'll be buying 1,000 acres in Paso Robles.
"Want some fruit trees?" she called.
"Be right over." We loaded Bluey into the vineyard mobile and sped over.
She was clearly infected with vineyarditis and was out there by her lone self, dressed in a white pull-over, digging up orange, lemon, avocado, nectarine and plumb trees that were in the way of her vision. We went over to lend our backs and a helping shovel. Let me tell you it's a lot of work digging out a tree with a shovel but that women huffed and puffed and seemed to blow them down with her tornado. When I offered to help her install her new vineyard, that didn't include transplanting fruit trees. "Are you crazy?" I asked. "Think for a minute. With a tractor, you could lift these babies out in a minute with less damage to the tree." And just then I saw what I thought was a mirage: Joe the Wino out Easter Day taking his bright orange Kubota for a leisurely drive. I ran out to greet him.
"Joe, good to see you. You're just in time to help a damsel in distress."
Joe drove right onto Karen's land and right up to her stepping down from his tractor. "Hello sweetheart. Give me an Easter hug." Joe got his hug and Karen got her trees pulled out and then the vineyardista took advantage of having that machine there to get her property "manicured." I can't use the word "graded" because government permits are required for "grading." Joe drove over the land smoothing it out here, filling in holes there, ripping up dirt and rolling boulders. There were a couple of more trees in a prime vineyard spot (WARNING: Tree huggers should stop reading now!) and Karen was ruthless in her vision. "Rip them out!" Joe agreed with her, saying, "You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs." He runs his business the same way. Ruthless. But I persuaded him to take the trees back to his place (after all, he has 10 acres). So, we saved the trees and Karen got her her land cleared. Joe got his hug, but he didn't get to mud wrestle the vineyardista in all that rich dirt and water. Bluey got to play in the mud. We got a bottle of wine. Ever hear the expression "Will Work For Wine"? You should watch what you say. And, as an extra benefit, when I went to the dentist's office this morning for a regularly scheduled check up my blood pressure was lower than last year (that's what a 4-day vacation of working in the vineyard and wine drinking will do to you.) Meantime, Karen has been on the phone getting everything ordered: vines, end posts, cement, wire, irrigation supplies, the works. She even found Fidel, that rascal, who is available for hire. If you want to see one of the most beautiful vineyards in California develop, stay tuned. And remember, do try this at home.

Zombie Vines & Zombie Banks

They're out there. Vines that are sending out shoots, sprouting leaves and setting fruit. They are green today but when summer comes and they try to move water from the roots to the leaves they can't. The leaves won't get water. They will turn red and brown and shrivel and the vines will die. There are dying vines in the vineyard and I don't know which ones. They are zombie vines infected with Pierce's Disease, the #1 enemy of vineyards in Southern California where the sharpshooters fly. Those pesky sharpshooters. Glassy winged. They suck the juices from an infected vine, become infected themselves (they are born innocent) then go and bite a healthy vine who becomes a zombie.

When we planted our vineyard two years ago I noticed some interesting bugs on the vines. Move near them and they instinctively scuttle to the other side of the shoot to hide. Clever rascals. Paso Robles Bill, who planted his micro vineyard two months before us that year, called in a panic: "I have sharpshooters in the vineyard!"
"Are those the ugly bugs that hide on the other side of the shoot when you move near and look like frogs with a flat alligator nose?" Yes. I was told to wait until I had significant growth in our vines before applying AdmirePro, a regulated chemical (very similar to nicotine I'm told) that costs about $1,000/quart and repels the sharpshooters. Sharpshooters don't like the taste of vines with admire (which will kill them) and will stay away from them. Bill, whose vines were taller with plenty of foliage, inoculated his vines right away. We didn't, not until Labor Day. Last year, when I saw red leaves in the vineyard I panicked and called an entomologist who inspected the vines and told me that the redness was a varietal characteristic of Tempranillo. I had dodged a bullet. We even had a vine tested for Pierce's disease -- and the report came back with good news. However, Paso Robles Bill said that the incubation period can be up to three years, so I may not see any sign of the disease until next year, or the year after. And so they are out there, zombie vines. And, I just found a sharpshooter in the vineyard last week. And, another one today.

Just got back from a meeting with Pat Nolan, San Diego County's plant pathologist, and she gladly answered my long list of questions, including, how long is the incubation period? She assured me that an infected vine would show symptoms the next year. Looks like we dodged a bullet. And, that one vine in the vineyard which isn't putting out shoots? "Rip it out."

If admire is similar to nicotine, I'll ask my princess the college student to do some research: clone the nicotine gene from tobacco into vinus vinifera to produce sharpshooter resistant vines. There is likely to be an additional benefit from the nicotine: drinkers will get hooked on our wine.

Just received a notice from the bank. The line of credit we've had for 10 years will not be renewed and the bank is demanding payment of $50,000. Worse than zombie vines are zombie banks. Time for a fire sale to feed the zombie bank: One thousand bottles of wine for sale at $49/piece .... any takers? Perhaps I can work out a swap with the bank.

Baby Barn Owl Makes Debut

Owl Gore, Jr., son of Mr. & Ms. Owl Gore who occupy the box by the entrance of our property, made his debut on Sunday after his mother kicked him out of the roost for not picking up his room. "He just got too big for our coop and had to go," said Ms. Owl. About a year ago we erected an owl box on a hill in the middle of our vineyard with 270 degree panoramic views of surrounding mountains and out to the Pacific Ocean. The penthouse has been vacant as a sign of the area's troubled real estate market. We sweetened the offer with free food: all the gophers and mice you can eat (which we have in abundance below the box). Our neighbor asked, "Did you get an owl yet?" Nope. They have owls all the time. He looked up at our box and observed, "Well, you don't have a perch. Your box needs a perch." Looks like I'll be yanking the 16 ft. pole out of the ground today and attaching a perch. One good thing; I didn't set the pole in concrete. Maybe we'll get that teenage Owl Gore, Jr. to lease our penthouse? What a hoot.