One of Bert's (muso) friends has connections with a greengrocer and he brings us quantities of fruit and vegetables for the pigs. Sometimes if the produce is only slightly sad looking I use it for other projects. Like making wine. The other day he brought us lots of carrots. And as I had already defrosted Clint's windfall peaches from the summer I had two lots of wine to make tonight.
Making wine is like planting trees in that it requires a bit of belief in the future. Trees can take a lifetime to mature, while country wines get there in a year or two. A lot can happen in a lifetime, a lot can change in a year or two.
On Saturday a family friend, a retired police officer, stood in our kitchen and explained to us why he had decided not to take up a lucrative job offer to train detectives in Afghanistan. He had grandchildren, he had sons and he had an elderly aunt who depended on him. He told us that money was all very well but how much money does a body really need? He wanted to see his grandchildren grow up, he didn't want to make his aunt fearful and unhappy. That man, who had recently passed a medical with flying colours, is this night lying in hospital after suffering a catastrophic stroke. He is very, very ill. That's the change a few days can bring, never mind a year.
Little wonder Pearlie fears for her Bertie's unsaved soul. Me? I'll carry on making wine in the hopes that we'll all be around to drink it in six months, a year or even, 2013.