Little Boxes on the Hillside

Big boxes acually, and a lot of them. Today was a humdinger. We picked, processed and pressed wine into barrel, which we call a "Triple P" day, which started at 6am and wrapped up a few moments ago around 10pm.

Git 'er done.

The past few days have been exciting ones for Ledge. We brought in the Adams Ranch Grenache, Rolph Family Grenache and Syrah and the glorious James Berry Vineyard Syrah, Grenache, Mourvédre and Roussanne, which we will combine together in one happy coferment.

There has been much conversation these days about the definition of various fruit quantities. As I become more adept at farming and winemaking these definitions have become clearer and clearer.

Allow me to break down what I am talking about:

It starts with a "Butt Load" which is not that much really, say, a few tons or so.

Next we have an "Ass Load" which would probably be in the 10 ton range.

Several "Ass Loads" would likely constitute a "Shit Load".

Once "Shit Loads" are multiplied you get to a "Fuck Load" which is getting into a hot mess, with grapes flying hither and thither.

As grapes are flying hither and thither and tractors and trucks keep delivering fruit the jargon moves to the Queen Bee of harvest measurements. You see, a "Load" is no longer an adequate way to define how much damn fruit is being processed. That's when you get to the final two: "Shit Ton" which is a maelstrom of "Fuck Loads" and when you start multiplying "Shit Tons" you get to a "Fuck Ton" which is a measurement which cannot really be measured by any instruments know to man. It's like a Laird Hamilton worthy monster wave of grapes that makes a vigneron scatch their head and think, "Holy hell, what we are dealing with here is a fuck ton of fruit."

I hope you enjoyed this little lesson in weights and measures. 

Bye for now.