Grapes and the vendanges

"Black" grapes, either Gamay, Cabernet Franc, or Côt

I wouldn't be surprised to see the grape harvest — les vendanges — start tomorrow. Bruno of the Domaine de la Renaudie told me a couple of weeks ago that harvesting wouldn't start before September 1, but he seemed to think the grapes were close to being ready. It's slightly early, but the weather is nice right now. If it starts raining again, that will be bad for the grapes.

A La Renaudière, 31 August 2007

Don't imagine big groups of workers out in the vineyard picking grapes by hand. Some Touraine grapes are harvested that way, but around Saint-Aignan most of the picking is done mechanically — by machines. The grapes are sort of sucked off the vines in a big vacuuming process.

I wondered if these weren't the Pineau d'Aunis grapes
that they sometimes use to make rosé here in Touraine,
but Walt looked that variety up and said the grapes are
much darker and that it used to be called Chenin Noir.

Bruno and Patricia have told me that harvesting by hand is just too expensive nowadays. Touraine wines, while good, don't command the big prices of the Bordeaux and Burgundy vintages. Grape-growing and wine-making are family businesses here, and mechanical harvesting makes it possible for the members of the family to do all or most of the work.

White wine grapes — either Sauvignon Blanc or Chenin Blanc

I'll be sorry when the grapes are gone, because they are so beautiful to look at and take pictures of. But they will be wine by next May, and that can be nice too!

A tiny spider on a grape leaf

In Friday's San Francisco Chronicle, there was an article about Loire Valley red wines, covering the territory from Saumur, west of Tours, all the way to Sancerre, which is about 150 miles upriver, including Touraine appelations like Bourgueil, Chinon, Amboise, and Cheverny.

I think autumn has come

It was on my walk with Callie the Collie yesterday morning that I felt it. The weather has been nice for a few days now — no rain this week until this morning — but there is a definite fall-like chill in the air. And the birds are starting to fly south.

Geese, don't you think? Whatever the bird is, it is flying south.

Besides, the grapes are definitely approaching full ripeness. Earlier in the summer, I thought the grapes out back were looking pretty miserable. But now they are in their full glory. This morning's rain is not a good thing. I hope they can start the harvest soon.

Lots of wine grapes

I wish I knew enough to distinguish Gamay and Cabernet Franc and Côt (Malbec) grapes from each other, but I don't. Even with the close-up picture below, who knows? If you do, tell me.

Which grapes are these?

These dry cool days are great for sunrises and sunsets. I can't stop taking pictures of them. But then you know that if you look at this blog very much.

Sunrise yesterday over a stand of pine trees
out in the middle of the vineyard

We still have September and October to go before the chill really sets in. At least I hope so. Even in years where we have a nice summer, September and October seem like the nicest months of the year. This year, with any luck, they will be a hell of a lot nicer than chilly, damp May, June, July, and August were.

Sunrise over La Renaudière at Saint-Aignan-sur-Cher
in France, 28 August 2007

Can you tell I'm enjoying the new camera? I don't miss the old ones at all. On the one hand, that's kind of sad, but on the other, it's just great. Callie has started to get used to the rhythm of our walks. She stops and waits, staring at me with curiosity, as I take photos. She doesn't know how to pose yet, however. When she sees me trying to take her picture, she turns away from me every time.

As far as 2007 goes, if anybody ever asks me what our summer was like, I'll say: "I don't remember. Which day was it?"

From bad to worse, weatherwise

It's a good thing that I got out Tuesday afternoon for a nice walk in the vineyard with the dog and the camera. It started raining again Tuesday night and it was still raining yesterday (Wednesday) afternoon. Here it is Thursday morning, and... well, whadda ya know... it's raining.

Touraine grapes in the Renaudie vineyard, 21 August 2007

Callie had a very rainy birthday. In the morning, she and I headed out down the gravel road through the vineyard for our normal walk, but in a light drizzle. By the time we had gotten about a quarter of the way out (it's about a mile out to the end of the road), the rain really started coming down. So we had to turn back. The poor dog was antsy and a pain in the butt all morning, because she had so much pent-up energy.

Callie wading in and drinking out of the puddles
in the vineyard Tuesday afternoon

I had to fire up the Peugeot and go out yesterday morning. I had an appointment with our insurance agent, Mme Janvier, and I needed to go to the Ed supermarket to pick up some supplies. I spent a good 30 minutes talking to Mme Janvier.

One of the things we talked about was the weather, of course. Her office windows overlook the Cher down near the bridge in Saint-Aignan, and I could see the rain falling and speckling the surface of the river. « Les gens vont vraiment déprîmer cet hiver, parce qu'ils n'auront pas beaucoup vu le soleil cet été », Mme Janvier said. People are going to get really depressed this winter because they won't have had their time in the sun this summer. I'm sure she's right. Just thinking about winter is depressing at this point.

Callie the border collie, 21 August 2007.
She'd just been playing with her dog friend Lilli.

The French national news has been carrying big stories about the depressing weather and about the vacationers and tourist industry people who are having to suffer through this été pourri — rotten summer. Campers who went out to the coast in Brittany and farther down toward Bordeaux have been pulling up stakes early and heading back home. Sidewalk cafés near the beaches are just a collection of empty tables and chairs. Nobody is buying ice cream.

The movie theaters are full of people, evidently. And the people most enjoying this ducky summer are the ones in Paris and other big towns who sell... umbrellas. Parapluies. Pépins. Pébrocs. Foreign tourists interviewed for the French news shows swear they are still having a great time in Paris and that it is beautiful despite the rain. Since they've probably never been there before, they don't really know what they are talking about! If they could only see it when the sun's out!

More Renaudie grapes, probably Sauvignon Blanc

Yesterday Bruno of the Domaine de la Renaudie winery was out on his tractor spraying the grapes again. He's the one who told me last week that it was a good thing, on the day I saw him, that it wasn't raining. It was just gray and gloomy that day, and the last thing the grapes needed was more moisture. Tough luck, really, because these days, it's very wet and just as gloomy.

I assume Bruno was spraying the grapes with what is called the Bordeaux mixture (la bouillie Bordelaise), a fungicide/bactericide that is used to control rot. It's a combination of copper sulfate and hydrated lime, evidently, and you can see it as a blue powder on the ground and the grape leaves much of the season — except when the rain has washed it all away.

This morning's French weather forecast

For him to be out there spraying in the rain, Bruno must be desperately trying to save as much of his grape crop as possible. In Champagne, Beaujolais, and Alsace the harvest has already started. They are saying that the exceptionally warm weather we had last April gave the grapes a head start on the season, so they are ripe early this year. They are probably also trying to get them in before the rain ruins them completely.

Harvest dates are set by the AOC people. In other words, to get the Appellation Touraine, which is a guarantee of authenticity and quality, the grape-growers can't harvest until the "experts" give them the go-ahead. Bruno told me the vendanges wouldn't start before September 1 this year. Let's hope there's something left to harvest.

A zoomed shot looking out across the Cher to

a little housing development on the other side

Another news report said that even the tomatoes grown in hot houses are not doing well this summer. There isn't enough sun to warm things up, and the humidity penetrates everything. Lettuce, of all things, is doing poorly. Farmers are finding pests and diseases on the leaves that haven't been seen in years. Carrots are rotting in the ground.

Meanwhile, there are having their third severe heat wave of the summer in Greece, according to the news on France 2 TV. Temperatures there are over 100ºF (approaching 40ºC) these days. I think the same is true in the U.S. Southeast. Evelyn, our friend in Alabama, says in an e-mail that she was out yesterday and after having lunch with friends "the temp in my car read 114, yikes. Everyone is talking about the weather. It sucks the energy right out of you, a bit like yours which sucks your good spirit out I think." Evelyn is right about our weather, so I know she's right about hers.

Susan says in a comment that her garden in the Oakland Hills, San Francisco Bay Area, is a disaster zone like ours. "Our summer here in Oakland is pretty similar to Bellingham's," Susan wrote. "All but one of my tomatoes failed to set fruit, the pepper plant has exactly one pepper, and the cucumbers simply up and died." Susan, I didn't realize you were having that kind of summer there. Others have told me that the weather in the Seattle area (including Bellingham) has been dismal this summer too, but that's less surprising that hearing about yours (apologies, Seattle).

Clouds moving back over us on an August afternoon

Finally, Claude (who blogs at Blogging in Paris and in French at Vieux c'est mieux) is out in Normandy, about a three-hour drive north of Saint-Aignan, near the coast. Up there on the English Channel, she reported the other day, she has turned her heat on, or at least the radiator in her living room. It's that bad. The temperature in our house is holding at about 66ºF, and yesterday I kind of wanted to have a fire in the woodstove. Instead, I wrapped up in a blanket and took a nap in front of the TV.

Limiting myself to six...

No, not six French fries or six glasses of wine. I'm talking about pictures. Ones taken with the new camera. The limit is not on taking just six, it means just posting just six. Today.

Yesterday we had a bright sunny afternoon. I took the dog out for a walk in the vineyard about 4:00 p.m.

You can click on the pictures to enlarge them on your screen.

A dog's-eye view of a walk in the vineyard

Even in bright sunlight, using the LCD screen on the back of the camera to frame pictures is okay. It had better be, since the camera has no other viewfinder. Only once or twice did I have a hard time seeing what I was taking a picture of because of bright sun on the screen or too many reflections.

Grapes in autumn colors

Callie was bound to notice the grapes sooner or later. I keep stopping to take pictures of the beautiful clusters hanging off the grape vines. I don't want her to eat any. First of all, the grapes belong to somebody else and will be used to make Touraine wines. And secondly, grapes and raisins can make dogs very sick, according to what I've read.

Did I forget to mention that today is Callie's six-month birthday? She was born February 22.

"What are these things he keeps pointing that silver box at?"

I want you to know what a strict limit six pictures is. I spent about 45 minutes out in the vineyard with the dog and in that amount of time I took... this is embarrassing... 120 pictures. About 25 of those are ones I would consider posting on the blog. There are a lot of near-duplicates in the full batch, where I took extra shots from a slightly different angle or with slightly different camera settings. So it's not a bad as it seems. But still...

More autumn colors: a grape leaf

Obviously, the pictures I take with this camera have good color and clarity. And it is so light to carry around compared to the other camera I used to use on my walks in the vineyard.

When I got back to the house, I looked out the kitchen window and saw that Maryvonne across the street had company. They were sitting outside, enjoying the afternoon sun. I snapped this telephoto picture through the window. I don't think they noticed me taking their picture.

Catching the last rays of afternoon sun

I'm more than happy with the TZ3's zoom, and the macro seems to work well too. The TZ3 is the new Panasonic Lumix digital camera I got last week. It has a 10x zoom.

Our vegetable garden isn't doing great. The weather has been too damp and cold for tomatoes and aubergines. It was raining again during the night, and I think the forecast for today is not good. But we planted a pumpkin patch out back, on top of what used to be the compost pile. We had moved the pile to a different location, and wanted to plant something to fill in that spot.

Pumpkins

I think we are going to have a ton of pumpkins this year. That might seem obvious, since each pumpkin will weigh about a ton when it's fully grown. I see lots of pumpkin soup and pumpkin pies in our future.

Okay, that's it for today.