Environ-Mental
August 10, 2008 by Cameron Fries
Filed under Blog, The Vine Curmudgeon
Ravings of a sustainable farmer
By Cameron Fries, White Heron Cellars
Being a vine curmudgeon means that I tread where others fear; even the rattlesnakes in our vineyard do their best to get out of my way. And yes, there are rattlesnakes in our vineyard. In fact, I am here to tell you that levitation is possible, and that I have personally levitated. When the vines are young we prune them almost back to the ground. In the spring, they form a small bush with many branches (called canes in grapes), and we visit each young vine to remove all but one cane, which will become the future trunk.
Top 20s Must Die
July 10, 2008 by Cameron Fries
Filed under Blog, The Vine Curmudgeon
By Cameron Fries, White Heron Cellars
For some odd reason the editors of this magazine have given me a bully pulpit from which to expound upon my favorite topics. I have actually met the editors, and I suspect that we are working with some rare form of mental illness better diagnosed by mental health professionals. But until the gentlemen in white coats show up to cart the editors off to small padded rooms, I shall continue to write about whatever pops into mind. In this particular case, I shall expound upon the high price of wine.
The Evolving Palate
June 10, 2008 by Cameron Fries
Filed under Blog, The Vine Curmudgeon
By Cameron Fries, White Heron Cellars
The very term ‘vine curmudgeon’ implies that I am an grey bearded fellow stomping about the vineyard and cursing the American electoral process, cutworms eating freshly emerged grape buds, and whatever happens to come to mind at the moment. This image, in my case, is quite accurate. I often ask myself how I got here? I can dimly remember in some ancient past being young, enjoying tragic movies, and convinced that my place in the universe was holistic. My youngest son earnestly assures me that marijuana will soon be legalized. I assuredly believed the same thing in 1974, listening to the Dead whilst driving on the open road. This must be how one becomes a curmudgeon – things that obviously should happen do not and as this pattern repeats itself through the years curmudgeonliness takes the place of hope.
