The Dog Days of Summer

A friend called the other night and wanted me to get back to work writing blog posts, noting that I hadn't written anything since Aug. 13. Things have been sufficiently slow that it is like watching grape vines grow.

It's year one, there is no fruit to deal with, and the drip irrigation system has taken up the burden of watering for me. And a fine job it's done. All the vines are growing vigorously in spite of the paucity of rainfall this summer. We are in a near drought here in Charlotte, the lake levels are visibly low, and my little vineyard is completely unaware of the weather.

I can see, however, that there is some serious pruning in my future when fall comes and I can assess exactly what I've gotten myself into. The vines are all over the place, drooping to the ground, tethering themselves to each other with their tendrils, straining at the bamboo stakes. Their foliage seems to show they have developed serious root systems, there have been no pests other than what looks like a visitation from a deer that nibbled a few leaves from one Chambourcin vine, and the plants remain disease free.

So far, so good.