Overjoyed.

Whilst working in the Pinot grigio (PG) this morning, stuffing shoots, I looked down and found an old earring of mine.  Why I looked down I do not know.  Stuffing shoots is definitely looking up through the canopy sort of work.  I am overjoyed to say the least.
I'd given up all hope of finding this earring.  I was fairly sure that it had dropped out whilst I was leaf-pulling in the PG block (almost 2 years ago).  But I had been in a vineyard that was being developed/ripped that day also, so when I noticed my earring was missing I wasn't 100% sure exactly where it had vacated my earlobe.  I looked along the rows a million times.  I contemplated buying a metal detector.  I decided the earring was a lost cause, I despaired.  They were very special earrings: Thud had bought them for me one Christmas and I wore them at my wedding to Vinomaker.  I was devastated.
Two weeks ago, I spent a whole week hoeing/hand weeding the PG block, so I had cleared a fair bit of real estate under the vines.  Didn't see a thing.  Then today, purely by chance, eureka!  None the worse for wear, just covered in Coombsville clay, I am really surprised that my filigree hoop hadn't been squashed by a tractor.  Vinomaker reckons the chickens unearthed my earring (the girls are wherever I am in the vineyard, I'm sure they think I'm the best chicken-scratcher out there).  But methinks my new guardian angel had something to do with me striking gold in the vineyard.  Thanks, mum!

Happy 85th, Vinomum!

Happy birthday, mum!  Here's to 85 pretty good years on the planet.  (And to xx of those 85 years being my, one and only, mum.)  Thank you for everything, including teaching me how to respect alcohol and, on the odd occasion, how to put rollers in my hair.  Although I can't be with you today, I am thinking of you and you can be sure I will be drinking a toast to your health this evening.  Fine and splendid!

Happy Mother's Day, mum.

It is Mothering Sunday in England, or Mother's Day as it is more commonly known.  And here is my mum, all smiley and young.  In her day, my mother used to be fond of a glass of Merlot, or a nice Rioja, but she doesn't drink much anymore. However, her real poison was Cognac, preferably Martell, although she did have a soft spot for Louis XIII (Rémy Martin), thanks to Thud.
In England, Mothering Sunday falls on the fourth Sunday in Lent and, as it has its origins in Christianity, is not really related to the American Mother's Day, which is celebrated in May (other than honouring mothers, that is). Of course, I am partial to the English Mother's Day because I am English. But also because it signals that the end of my Lenten fast is now only three weeks away.  All things chocolate be warned.  But, I digress.
Happy Mothering Sunday to all (English) mothers.

Mothering Sunday.

A heartfelt thank you to my mother, my sister and my sister-in-law on this Mothering Sunday.  I wish I could be with you all in person, so that I could give each of you the biggest bouquet of spring flowers I could gather...along with my love and gratitude in recognition of a job well done!
Happy Mothering Sunday to all (English) mothers.

Christmas in November: 2.

What do you do on a rainy November day in Napa? You go and do some early Christmas shopping, of course. There is a gift faire being held at the Napa Fairgrounds this weekend and although I don't normally have the inclination to attend such things, I kept a possible visit in the back of my mind as I thought my mother may enjoy it. I had to go over to Napa Fermentation Supplies to buy some drilled barrel bungs, and seeing as the faire was being held right next door, my mother and I did indeed decide to stop in and see what was for sale.
I really did not expect much, and to be quite honest there was a lot of dust-collecting nonsense being offered, but one particular stall caught my eye. Some enterprising young woman had come up with the idea of making jewellery, wind chimes, money-clips, candle holders etc. from old silverware. I had to take a second look because it was not immediately apparent that the goods she was tendering for sale were made out of old, unwanted silver utensils. Very clever indeed.
On a nice display rack, about 100 bracelets sparkled and beckoned to me to come and take a peek. My mother slyly asked me which one I liked and I immediately zeroed in on the only one that happened to have grapes on it, and which in a former life had been the handles of two old spoons . The bracelet is now mine. Thanks mum!