You know you are a winemaker's wife when you become a winery widow during the months of February and May...
Before you start sending condolence cards and flowers, please let me explain! The WMH is alive, healthy and well, but it’s vintage! When speaking to my other fellow winemaker wives this word has many meanings. There is an unspoken law that when it is vintage we understand that our partners go into battle for 3 months. Each vintage is different; as Mother Nature is the CEO of all wineries, it is up to her as to how it is going to be.
So how do I know that vintage has started?
Starting in February the daylight hours of seeing my WMH begin to diminish. Much focus and attention is given to the vineyard, winemaking and the weather. WMH becomes obsessed with the weather, it’s like a bride leading up to her wedding day – but even more detail is necessary. I have to say that it actually becomes an obsession. I will also add that the meteorologists have absolutely no idea, which is frustrating and also like playing a game of Russian roulette. The perfect weather needed is sunshine, a little bit of rain but not too much, some wind and absolutely no humidity. Not too much to ask for really!
From early vintage the WMH battles with the vineyard, hoping that this year he will have the quality and quantity that he hopes for.
By March the WMH is starting to talk in another language, on the phone to growers you hear words like baume` and veraison. Growers start to get itchy feet and need counselling advice on whether to spray, pray or pick their fruit.
Autumn arrives and the harvest season truly commences. The WMH begins the dawn to dusk patrols. As one farms with nature, it also means that you have to try and control some aspects of it. Birds also seem to enjoy the taste of grapes and the epic bird patrolling begins. With all hands on deck, gas guns, a scary man and a bird radar detecting system, the WMH tries to outwit these pesky birds – there are wins and losses.
As the winery widow you have to understand that the WMH usually works a 7 day week, its just part of the vintage routine. You also understand that no planning can take place during these months, each vintage is just so unpredictable. However in 2011, we decided to get married during vintage. Yes, absolutely crazy! In planning the wedding I was allowed 15 minutes in the evening to run through any ideas/important decisions that needed to be made. It required me to be organised and luckily for me the WMH had total faith in my wedding planning. The day was perfect and we got our beautiful autumnal photos, which is why we decided on a May wedding in our beautiful town of Daylesford. Of course the honeymoon was not straight away, this was postponed to July, as the WMH was picking fruit the day after the wedding!
As the 3rd month approaches and when you think you will never see your WMH again or have a conversation longer than 10 minutes, you hear the relieving words: “Last of the fruit will be in by the end of the week”. This means that the hard yakka of early mornings and late nights will soon come to an end. The person you called husband will be able to eat dinner with you and heaven forbid, he may actually get a weekend off!
Vintage makes you appreciate all the good things about being married to a winemaker. You know vintage has to happen, it also allows him to earn a crust and sell the product that he loves making.
Although I do thank Mother Nature for winter when the vines go to sleep; so we can spend time as a family, regroup and do it all again the following year.
Welcome readers, to what I hope will be a humorous and eye opening journey in to the wife of a winemaker.
I have been a winemaker’s wife for 3 and half years, but have known my winemaker husband (WMH) for 7 years. In this time my wine experience has changed dramatically and I can truly tell you that there is more to wine than it being red or white.
But firstly, I am going to confess something….I never used to be that interested in wine, I used to be a house red or white girl! Yes, I used to bypass the wine list and just drink whatever. Don’t get me wrong it wasn’t because I did not know about wine. I was brought up in a family that shared and celebrated with good wine. As children, my brother and I were constantly put in the car for family holiday trips to a wine region of Australia, where my parents would buy up big and stack the car with cases of wine from their favourite wineries.
Somewhere in my 20’s I was just in a non-caring role of what wine I drank, as long as it was cheap, alcoholic and easy to order I was happy. However, this all changed when meeting my WMH. No, we did not meet in France romantically under the vines, instead it was jugs of Sangria, bottles of Cerveza and the beautiful town of Seville in Spain where I fell in love with him. From there my education into wine began.
So is it that simple, that wine is red or white?
It is no mystery that when grapes are harvested that the skins are red or white, but it is the magic that happens during vintage time in the winery that constantly amazes me, and that my WMH can turn these humble berries into delicious elixir.
Yes, my WMH produces red and white wines and what we end up drinking on the wine release day is a celebration, of the blood sweat and tears that have made up that particular vintage. Winemaking definitely has its romantic connotations, I am sure some of our friends believe that the WMH and I sit and look out at the grapes each night and sit under them each afternoon, but as my WMH states, its farming with God! When I look out at the vineyard I see hard work, stress and constant care that is taken to grow and harvest these smallest of fruits.
So what happens now when I am ordering wine? Well, firstly I go straight for the wine list! Yes, I enjoy perusing the reds and whites to see if I know any of the wines or I have the chance to order something new. I now know my favourite wine; Pinot Noir, so I always try a new winery of this varietal to see if it stands up to my favourite.
I drink wine now, with much more appreciation and care for the liquid that my glass holds, just because I know of the journey that it has gone through. So, dear reader, maybe the next time you order a glass of wine you too will think about the humble grape and the place it originated from and how it ended up in your glass? If you have had to choose red or white….which would you choose?