This is our vineyard. Eleven rows of 50 vines each means 550 vines. Because of Melissa’s chronic health issues and other responsibilities, we’ve struggled with the vineyard these last years. We love it, but it was eating us up, and we weren’t making any money.
So this spring, tired and frustrated, we sadly decided to let it go, to pull up the posts and plow under the vines.
Then the heavens parted and there appeared on our doorstep two men. One was our former vet, who shall be called Jeff. At his side was Son of Jeff, who is called PJ. PJ had begun making wine and wanted to learn more about growing grapes. He is young and aches not in his knees, neck, or hips, and suffers not from chronic pain.
Melissa spread her arms toward the beloved yet cur-sed vineyard, and said, “Here is your classroom. Go for it.”
And so they did. Jeff and Son of Jeff, who is called PJ, have pruned and sprayed and trimmed all summer long, often with the help of Wife of PJ, who is called Kate. The blessed trio have performed a miracle on the vineyard, for it looks great. It does need mowing, but since mowing is the job of Catherine, who is called the Great Procrastinator, blame not Jeff and Son of Jeff for the long grass.
The brave men still have destructive birds and Asian Lady Beetles to battle, but we expect they will realize a bountiful harvest this fall, and we pray for a few bottles of the wine which will be made by Son of Jeff, who is called PJ….And it will be good.
(Sorry. I’m easily influenced by what I read, and I just finished Christopher Moore’s novel Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal. It’s wacky, irreverent, and totally made up, yet I feel as if I understand Jesus better for reading it. How weird is that? Just goes to show our minds are Silly Putty in the hands of a skilled novelist.)