I struggle to describe what this time of year feels like for a grape grower.  You usually wake up in the morning in a state of panic: what am I picking today?  how is the weather?  how bad are the birds?  are there any leaves left on my vines?

Then reality inevitably sinks in.  Your grapes are off the vine and all you’re left with is an empty feeling of no longer being needed.  This should lead to a long and relaxing winter, but all those nagging jobs that were left behind during the busy season are still staring you in the face.  General clean-up, prepping the ground for winter, hilling up around vines, digging drainage ditches, and installing post and wire into newly planted fields are just a few of these tasks.

The working days are much shorter now and, frankly, so is my level of ambition.  I always felt guilty about this annual lack of drive until just recently.  I read a book entitled “Outliers” by Malcom Gladwell on advice from my Uncle Don.  It was a great read and I was struck by one chapter in particular that described the life of vineyard workers in Burgundy many years ago.

Gladwell quotes historian Graham Robb from his book “The Discovery of France”:

An official report in 1844 described the strange mutation of the Burgundian day-laborer once the harvest was in and the vine stocks had been burned: “After making the necessary repairs to their tools, these vigorous men will now spend their days in bed, packing their bodies tightly together in order to stay warm and eat less food.”

Human hibernation was a physical and economic necessity.  Lowering the metabolic rate prevented hunger from exhausting supplies.  After the Revolution in Alsace and Pas-de-Calais, officials complained that wine growers and independent farmers, instead of undertaking “some peaceful and sedentary industry” in the quieter season, “abandon themselves to dumb idleness.”

I laughed out loud when I read this because it hit so close to home.  The context of this chapter is that we are very much a product of our cultural legacy.  So I’m not to blame for my lethargic winter blah’s after all, chalk it up to those who came before me!

What a pleasure it was to have a keen group of culinary/hospitality students from Assiniboine Community College (Manitoba) stop by our barn this morning.  Prior to their arrival, I worried that it may be tough to keep our guests entertained for the full two and a half hours they were scheduled for, but once I met them I knew it wouldn’t be a problem!

They were all ears as my mother and I took turns explaining the history of our farm and some of the viticultural practices we employ.  The rest of the time was filled with very well thought out questions and subsequent discussion.  We concluded the morning with a tasting of our wines, of which I received some great feedback.  It is a perk of my job to be able to meet such engaging and talented young people getting set to embark on their careers.  I wish them all the best of luck in their future endeavours, and thank them for bringing a sampling of Five Rows back home to Brandon, Manitoba.

A special thanks also goes to Barbara Leslie from Niagara College for hooking us up with our new friends.

Starting Saturday May 1st, the barn doors will be open once again.  I encourage all friends of Five Rows to stop in for a quick sip and chat.  We’d love to hear how your winter was and give you a sneak peek at our upcoming release schedule.  All the wines are drinking well right now and, consequently, their numbers are dwindling rapidly.

Make sure to bring your boots and take a leisurely stroll through the vineyard. It’s a great time of year to witness new buds popping right before your eyes.  I’d be happy to lead a tour for anyone interested.  Thanks to the wonderful spring weather that’s graced Niagara, we are a good 10-14 days ahead of a normal year.  As I envision what the 2010 vintage could potentially become, I hear the voice of my wise and battle-tested father reminding me not to count my chickens just yet.

After a brief respite, work in the vineyard has begun again in earnest.  It’s time to evaluate just how many buds have made it through winter, then make an educated guess at how many to leave for the upcoming season.  We look at things like bud viability, cane density, internodal gap distance, and the long-range forecast before making our first cuts.

Generally, we prune our vines back to two trunks, each housing a cane of ten or so buds.  We’ve been lucky with a mild winter to this point and bud viability is relatively high compared to previous years.  However, one frigid night can quickly change this rosy outlook, so as an insurance measure we’ll leave a third cane on one of the trunks just in case March decides to go out like a lion.  This third cane is left untied early in the spring then either cut off or tied down at a later date based on how many total buds survive through the dreaded frost window.

The art of pruning may seem like a boring, monotonous chore to some, but I actually quite enjoy it.  I look at each vine as a blank canvas, ready to be fashioned into a viticultural masterpiece.  Laugh not, for the responsibility to empower a vine to produce stellar fruit should not be taken lightly.  This important task of renewal sets the tone for the year ahead and restarts the cycle of life.  With each successive snip of the pruners, it’s hard not to anticipate and envision the bounty this vine will bring us in the fall.