Snow Daze

Wednesday was the first open day that we had ever remained closed. Snow and ice and a tractor flat conspired to make the driveway impassable and I didn't really mind.

The calls started coming in at 7am. "Hey Brian, sorry to disturb you, but are we opening today?" We have a good staff of people. They care about the winery and they really enjoy the work and the customers. They wanted to work. "No, we're staying shut today" I replied. "I don't want any one risking their neck to visit BOW. I've already changed the voicemail message. Stay home and stay warm. It's a snow day." I actually heard disappointment on the other end of the line, "you sure? okay."

While I drank my coffee and wrestled with Barley and Justice, the lovely and surprisingly focused Sharon came into the kitchen in her jogging gear. She had on ear warmers over her ipod earbuds. "Going for a run! If that doesn't work I'll come back and go for a walk!" I was exhausted just looking at her. She is dedicated to working out each day and to me it is a wonder. She inspires me in so many ways.

I was off to the office. It's my view on the world on days like these. The computer has email and the Washington Post online, Facebook and Linked In. Itunes plays my favorites. As if it had been choreographed, Beck's lilting The Golden Age, sound-tracked the snow falling from the roof in small square sheets past my window, shattering below on the growing layers of snow. The sheets flipped and flitted and sailed as they fell and some traveled several feet outward from the wall of the garage below my office. They sharded beautifully upon touchdown.

More was happening just outside my window. Out beyond neighboring Oak Hill estate's ancient house was a soft wall of mist and snow. On clear days I can see to the Blue Ridge and above there would be the contrails of the Dulles people travelling their destinations. Not so this day. Everything was white save the buildings, trees, and vineyard. The occasional bird flew by, also brown and stark against the snowscape. Two hundred feet above the vineyard hovered my favorite bird of prey, a Sparrow Hawk; perfect and compact and prepared to drop and take a dark mouse betrayed by ice and snow.

So beautiful and tranquil, it again took me back to thoughts of Key West where the only ice to be found was in my banana daiquiri. The lovely and frenetic Sharon and I were walking its streets in 2005 when we decided to live our dream. She loved her boss and her commute but the job itself had long since ceased to be fulfilling. After years of trying to help by saying she should quit but instead just sounding judgmental, I finally asked the magic question the right way at the right time. (Gentlemen are you listening?) "If you could imagine doing anything other than your current job, what would it be?" Her answer floored me. "I have dreamt of checking the vines early in the morning with a cup of coffee and my dog at my side and mist over the hillsides. I don't know what I am checking for, but I am checking them." The lovely and visionary Sharon started us on this path and it has been made real here at Barrel Oak. And in the three years since, the lovely and very smart Sharon has become a wine maker: so very cool and astonishing!

I'm still amazed that we discovered our shared dream. When I was fifteen I wrote down five things that I wanted to be when I grew up. Race car driver...comedian...porn star...rock star...winery owner. Ah...the plot thickens. The first four goals would have led me away from Sharon who is as sensible and practical as she is lovely. With any of those first four I probably would have been dead by now as well. But that last goal...that last goal could work, except that I had long before forgotten that I'd had it as a life goal. In between I had opened and closed businesses, visited some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, lived abroad and learned Flemish, gone off to attempt the completion of my studies (several times), crashed several motorcycles, gotten drunk way too many times, loved way too freely, and suffered several sharp blows to the head. No surprise then that I had forgotten the list of life's goals by the time I met the lovely and infinitely patient Sharon. Then five years after our marriage she told me of her dream and I set out to make it real. Soon afterwards I came across an old journal and reading it I found the five goals. I stood rereading the journal several times and remembering that time when I was fifteen and full of the possibilities of the future. In that moment I was grateful to have lost the list and avoided succeeding in those misguided deeds. Most involved fame (or notoriety) and I am so glad that such has escaped me. The progression of years have taught me that anonymity provides joy, fulfillment, and freedom, and I am grateful to have been able to nurture such values. I am especially grateful to have met, wooed, and wed the lovely and very kind Sharon.

Music

People have asked us what we care about at BOW. Of course there are the dogs. But that's not really an answer. We answer that we care about community and charitable causes, our customers and staff; the wine and the music.

BOWMusic.

Notice how we have music most the time you're here? That's our iPods burning it down. We record onto them and set them to shuffle. Keeps the mix interesting and fun and surprising. The staff tries to get me to pull out my pod and insert theirs. To do that they need the right mix of fun and harmony: R&B and favorites and great singer-songwriters with a bit of the Rat Pack, Stones, Moody Blues, Pretenders, Robert Earl Keen Jr., Sam Cooke, Neko Case vibe. Throw in some Manassas and Little Feat, Neil Young and Marty Stuart, Jayhawks and John Hyatt. Mix it up with James Brown and k.d. lang, Eagles and Santana. Elvis Costello and Eddie Vedder. Clapton and Cat Stevens. Emmylou and Cassandra. Springsteen and Blue Man Group. Don't forget Beck & B.B. and Alison Krauss and Amy Winehouse. And of course Aretha.

That's music. That we can listen to day after day after day. That sets our tone and puts our place in order. When we pull out the glass to pour we know that you can stay and listen and enjoy the vibe. Man....dig the music!

I'm a Santa Cruzan. If you go to my Facebook page you'll see that I belong to two Santa Cruz groups. My favorite is "You know you're from Santa Cruz when..." If you link there you'll learn a lot about how I'm hardwired. The list even includes a blurp about an old restaurant that I briefly owned and managed. The Cooper House was a special place on the downtown open air Pacific Garden Mall. It was in the old county courthouse and it had opened in the late 60s as a bohemian art center , restaurant and bar. It had known many owners and managers by the time I called it home (I lived in the office for 3 months during the renovations and reopening) in 1986. It was special for many reasons with an outdoor bar and local characters such as "Rainbow Ginger" who at seventy years of age joyfully danced her spiritually rendered version of the seven veils nearly every day. Tom Scribner was a Wobbly organizer in the 20s and saw player in the 80s whose eerily wailing music filled the narrow alley spaces between the old buildings. And then we had Mr. Twister the Clown who performed for tips and fed the parking meters to save people getting tickets. My favorite character was my friend Don McCaslin who led his band "Warmth" playing every sunny day in front of the Cooper House . With his very long flowing grey beard and hair he led on the vibes with a collection of musicians from other bands and former greats who loved the scene as much as I did. The whole band played for us for $10 an hour and tips. They'd been getting $5 under the previous owner. I'd been listening to Warmth since arriving in Santa Cruz as a ten year old kid in 1972, accompanying my parents on the occasional downtown outing and gaining an appreciation for rigorous people watching which I have nurtured till this very day. Warmth played jazz and R&B standards. I used to sing "Mustang Sally" with them then offer everyone banana daiquiris at half off. Sound familiar?

During this time there was a great local radio station called KFAT out of Gilroy California. Now they are known as KPIG out of Freedom, California, just down from the neighborhood where I grew up. You should check out their website for some really great music webcasting: www.kpig.com. They're the oldest webcast radio station in the world. Who knew? Here in Marshall we have the oldest continually operating Ford dealership in the world. Who Knew?

Santa Cruz still has a great music venue called the Catalyst. The owner, Randall Kane, started out with a funky hippie deli in the glass atrium of a downtown senior citizen hotel. I was just a kid and would watch the typically very dirty and unkempt hippies slouch through and sit on the floors with their beaded leather pajamatop girlfriends. There was a lot of laughter and pot in there and spontaneous flute and conga music. The seniors...the old guys, just sat and starred at the wonder of it all. My how their world had changed overnight! I think that's where old Tom Scribner caught the bug and picked up his saw.

Some years later Randall packed up and moved to the old bowling alley at the other end of the downtown mall and opened the new Catalyst and brought in the Rolling Stones and Crosby Stills Nash and Young, and Bonnie Raitt and the Tubes and so many others famous and nearly famous. My favorite was the Beat Farmers fronted by Big "Country Dick" Montana. We hung backstage with them a few times. Dick dropped dead on stage a year after his docs told him to slow down or else. A lot of those guys didn't make it out alive. But they sure lived!

All that great music. All those characters. All that weirdness. It all shook to pieces in 1989 when we had the Loma Prieta earthquake. The Catalyst made it. The Cooper House didn't. My friends back home have often commented over the past two years of building BOW: "Of course you own a winery! It couldn't be otherwise. You've spent your life practicing for that job."

I guess that thinking about the music brings back memories. It also moves me. I've found so many communities over the years listening to music. That's probably why we're featuring lots of music at the winery throughout the winter. It seems that folks like hanging at the winery when we have music. Even better if it's live. Maybe when next you're in you can share a few stories that may come up listening to all the music. Sharon and I are pretty much always around. Looking forward to seeing you and hanging out.

Today was a perfect day

We met Chris at 11am. He came up to the office for the first time and took in the big view out the window westward toward the beautiful Piedmont. Sharon was just back from the gym (she has kept to it religiously except during the harvest and I envy her willpower). Chris had driven up from Crozet, South of Charlottesville. He's our vineyard consultant and a really great guy. Probably early 60s but looks a lot younger. Maybe the wine-tinged good wholesome living? Great drawl and tall, outdoors rugged and handsome, a true leader in the Virginia vineyard industry. We like Chris because he calls it like it is. His honesty and directness have meant a lot to us.

Our plan was to walk the vineyard. On the coldest day of the year. With the wind blowing the temp was single digits. Sharon had on so many layers she looked like the younger brother in that movie..."A Christmas Story". Her arms kind'a spread outward and she looked like a standing snow angel. We tromped out of the office together...excited and expectant. We were going to walk the vineyard. The vines were dormant and yet there was so much to see!
First we swung by the winery. I needed to check in with Kristin to confirm the day's plan and activities. We expected it to be slow with the frigid weather. Rick was also there and we needed him to join us in the vineyard. Rick is a very good wine maker and he and Sharon are making magic downstairs. He was also a landscaper once. He wants to work more in the vineyard where we're all weak on experience. Having Chris here was a big deal for him too. The saying is that great wine is made in the vineyard.

We also needed to collect Benny and Jose. These guys are brothers and they've done the work for the last several months in the vineyard. They're a precious asset. They are smart and hard working and a great team. Benny will become our Vineyard Supervisor in the Spring and we wanted them to hear directly from the war horse's mouth. Chris has seen it all and he knows his shit. If Benny and Jose are to do a great job for us, they had to be a part of our meeting with Chris.

Collected together, we headed to the vineyard in three SUVs. We were joined by Walker Elliot who is doing research for a new book. It was the first time we'd met and it added a twist to the day's objective. He's a nice guy and he had good questions. "what have you planted? What's the time commitment? Does the consultant make a big difference in the quality of what you harvest?" The man was taking notes.

Stepping out of the cars we were blasted by wind and the cold. Those layers of clothing were coming in handy. Chris had on his dead-animal-lined Admiral Perry Blue Arctic jacket. He apologized for the offence of the dead animal lining his craggy face but we said it looked cool. He said he'd had it twenty years and wore it on the coldest days; less than a dozen times. He called it an old friend.

First up was the Vidal. At the lowest altitude in the hybrid vineyard, the six of us walked along the rows. Chris explained the pruning he wanted to see and Benny and Jose worked a few plants so that we could make certain that we were all on the same page. They immediately showed their experience and Chris was impressed. "Those guys are a find!" he said. "Yep" I replied. Chris pulled out his knife "too dull" he growled. He took a cutting of two foot of cane and sliced the buds carefully. "See, you want to see the green in the bud. Cut too deeply and you get the underlying stem. That tells you nothing." Benny and Jose leaned in. "Cut it right and find brown and you've got cold damage. Here's some see? Probably from that November frost. It'd take hold further out on the branch end. The wood gets hard and brown at the trunk and the dormancy works out toward the ends as the fall turns to winter. Should be green in the buds lower down." Chris cut some more. "See? It's greener down here." He threw down the branch and seemed satisfied that we understood the importance of the bud check. "Check 'em in a week or two after this hard freeze and let me know if you have more than 20% loss. If we do we'll have to prune 'em differently."

We were twenty minutes into our walk. It was like I'd just spent five hours at the computer doing research. It was cold, but man were we learning stuff. We walked over to the Chambourcin. It was tied to a high wire at about five feet. On these vines the fruit will hang at eye level.

It's all about controlling vigor. The summers are wet in Virginia and the vines suck it up. They'll only send sugars to the fruit if they're thirsty. The more water, the more vine vigor. That means less sugar and more green flavors in the wine. Not good for making wine; not good for drinking wine. Every vineyard manager has his own way of controlling vigor and getting sugars into the grapes. One way is a high fruiting wire. Chris had made us put it on the Chambourcin and Traminette. "These look good" he said. We smiled. "But look at this one...and that one! Lots of vigor. The cane is almost eight feet long here. This is healthy. But you'll need to watch the vigor." Chris showed Benny and Jose how he wanted the vines pruned. "Benny," Chris asked, "how many buds do you think for the Traminette? " "Five per cordon" replied Benny. Chris smiled. Benny had passed a test. Benny knew it.

Last was the Seyval. "Look at this. Healthy" exclaimed Chris, "Beautiful! We want about one and a half tons an acre for all of this. We'll add to the cordon a foot each year. Add the load incrementally. That'll allow the vine to mature without damage from the fruit clusters." Chris looked at us all. "Take down the extra buds in the spring while they're no longer than this" he drew a line from the ball to the tip of his thumb like he was measuring for a suit. "Let 'em carry twenty clusters max. Drop everything else. Less is better."

We were really cold now. Almost two hours walking the vineyard on the coldest day of the year. I had been worried that Sharon would trip in a hole and fall down. She had on way too many layers; if she fell she'd roll around on the freezing grass and become that kid in the Christmas movie: "I can't get up...I can't get up!...I...can't...get...up...! I decided we'd had enough and we headed back to the cars and drove up to the winery. Benny and Jose went back to their painting in the production room.

After a bit it was 4pm. We sat around and talked shop. We laid out the spring planting of Chardonnay and Viognier and decided the direction for the rows around the winery. We brought up beakers from the barrels and tanks of '08 wine. Chris and Walker tasted and commented and asked questions. Everyone but me was spitting. I ate cookies and drank '08 barrel aged chardonnay.

By 6pm we were ready to call it a day. We cracked an unreleased '07 BOWHaus Red and savored the vintage. Such a dry summer. Such an epic wine. So much body and structure. I smiled at the enjoyment taking place at the table. Walker was the first to leave and not much later Chris headed out with a prerelease '07 Tour'Ga Franc. He was happy and ready for the drive home. It had been a very good day.

Sharon and I retired to the office with the remainder of the '07 BOWHaus which we shared with Rick, Kristin and Cathy. The day's take: $90. The things that we had learned: priceless. We told stories and laughed about some photos we'd posted at Facebook. I thought about camaraderie. So many of the jobs and companies I've had in the past had lacked it. We listened to Kristin talk about the home that she and Kurt had purchased and their plans to move in. Cathy called her sister to invite her to next week's Mystery Dinner. We laughed about a lot of things as we enjoyed the good wine. Standing there with my friends and colleagues, I thought about the cold outside and the warmth inside and I decided it had been a perfect day.

BOW Holidays

We hope that this is the wonder-full time of year for you. We are still recovering from the work load and doing well after an extraordinary summer and fall at the winery. Our staff and customers have given us so much support as we have worked to improve the winery at every step. Of course, the holidays are always a mixed bag of joy and life's challenges. I continue to exercise Sharon's nearly unlimited patience and how she puts up with me I really don't know. Around us are so many friends, some of whom face extraordinary challenges with moving dignity. I opened a photo card yesterday from a couple; friends we last saw here at the winery in August. When they visited us they'd clearly had a very tough year. He is a very strong man who'd been greatly weakened by chemo. Seeing them together with her helping him walk brought tears to my eyes. While I felt true joy as we each hugged one another, I was also deeply saddened by the toll the cancer had taken on them both. So imagine my happiness upon receiving their holiday photo card yesterday. The shot showsthem sitting in their pool in Florida. They have big smiles and they both look great! I have the photo here in front of me and I can't stop smiling. It was great seeing them in that photo. It was great to learn that they have regained their strength and together emerged from a difficult period.

Of course it's no great insight on my part to share with you that life offers good times and bad. But as I grow older I become more aware of the dignity with which so many of our friends face life's challenges. Trying to put my feelings into words now about these friends I am inspired by their strength and essential humanity expressed in the face of our shared mortality. I guess what I want to share with you is that for me this season is essentially about the dignity, the strength, and the humanity found in the full embrace of life. Sharon and I hope that all of these things completely fill your life and the lives of those you love this holiday season.

Christmas at BOW...

So it really is Christmas at BOW! The big tree is up and the little loft tree is ready for the ornaments that you can bring in and hang in exchange for a free basic tasting. The winery is now decorated with fresh greens and gold and burgundy globes reflecting the light of the high surrounding windows. When the shinny balls turn they throw points of sunshine . The ornaments seem alive, casting motes of mirth across the walls and floors, beckoning our cheer. These days we often hear our guests catch their breaths when they enter BOW; the ornaments are everywhere and to me they look like stars dancing in the firmament.

This season passes from the harvest turkey so quickly giving way to snow covered boughs. Yet as it grows colder each passing day the winery grows ever more warm and welcoming. The coffee and cocoa and hot cider are out with the day's papers of record so that folks can sit and enjoy and remain awhile. There is the wireless internet and some bring their office time inside to infuse with our wine. They are the smart ones. The patio fire pits and chiminea are lit and when the wind isn't blowing groups gather round taking in the smell of walnut and oak and poplar in the smoke on the air.Funny how the coldest season is also the warmest at Barrel Oak Winery....

The Flemish Turkey. Enjoy!

At this time of family, love and hope, we thought you might enjoy a short story about the Flemish Turkey.

I was a young and naive sixteen and I'd been in Flanders living just south of Antwerp with a wonderful host family for about four months when a package unexpectedly showed up at the kitchen door. It was a large frozen turkey from the States sent by the student exchange program. I was one third of the way through my year abroad and I'd forgotten that the holiday was a week away. That evening we gathered in the living room as I tried to explain to my family about the tradition, the history, and the feast. It was a difficult task because I didn't really know my history very well and I'd never cooked a turkey. It was made the more difficult bymy very rudimentary conversational Flemish.

Of course these days I am the turkey king -or, as Sharon likes to say "the King of Turkeys!" I start brine-ing the bird on Tuesday night and make up the stuffing on Wednesday evening, stuffing myself in the process as I taste after every addition, trying to get the flavors just right. Sharon watches warily and snacks on cheese, crackers and spinach leaves while I make a mess of the kitchen, adding exotic ground herbs, dried fruits and nuts and savory bits of sausage and bacon. She rolls her eyes when I cook up the oysters -and she's right. "Oysters in Turkey? Fish in Fowl?!" However, the ridiculous thought doesn't slow me down in the least and I gleefully work into the late night on the extravagance of the following day's meal. The next morning always starts early as the stuffing goes into the bird -everywhere in the bird that it will fit with extra on the floor and in the dogs and in me and sometimes stuck to the walls. Before popping it in the oven the juice is poured over everything to create the perfect basting environment under the foil cover. Then that bird cooks and cooks and the smells...oh the smells. By the time our family and friends show up early in the afternoon we all tend to hang out in the kitchen soaking up the wonderful aromas emanating from the oven. We sip on wine and champagne and wait on the bird which actually comes out perfect most every time. Clearly, aside from trying to divine my lovely wife's thoughts and needs, cooking the turkey is one of my few true obsessions.

Twenty five years ago in Flanders as a pimply faced kid I didn't know any of this. I only knew that we had a bird to cook and my wonderful host mother Margaret didn't really speak any English.

After describing with many hand gestures the stuffing procedure (picture exaggerated stuffing motions) of the bird and the boiling of the corn on the cob (they didn't eat corn on cobs which were used exclusively as pig feed back then), and the potatoes and the salads and the jellied cranberries in the can (something none of us understood in the least), my host mother dutifully went to work on the feast's preparation. She bicycled the bird over to the butcher to be prepared and stuffed. We had both worked out that the butcher was the only person qualified to prepare such a grand feast and neither one of us dared take the risk of screwing up this job!

My host family had six children then ranging in age from about nine to twenty years old. Their eighteen year old son had gone to Michigan as an exchange student and I had been accepted as his surrogate for twelve months. I stayed in his room in the attic and was accepted as another son. It was such an extraordinary year! I was a pretty quiet and introverted kid back then, surrounded by this very large family of kids and all of their friends. I went to their school and took dance lessons with them; we were in the scouts together and I would join them at the local youth club on Thursdays and Saturdays to flirt with to the local girls and drink a beer or two. At the end of that year I came home full of life and passion and engagement in my world and determined to live fully with friends and love in all and for all that I did. I have been grateful to that family ever since for what they gave me in those short twelve months. But before any of that there was still the little matter of that turkey.

That Thanksgiving evening the table was decorated and the fine wines were decanted. Yes, there was cob corn on the table served with some trepidation along with the mashed potatoes which I had made and the carrots (which moeder had made and which I called "sad roots" in Flemish - "triestig wortels".) The family gathered and the turkey was brought out on dish under cover. The candles were lit and a toast was made with great mirth. Then, as the cover was removed from the great turkey or "den groot kalkoen", all watched for my reaction. I did very poorly. Looking at the center of the table with mouth agape, I was obviously devastated. There before me was a very large meatloaf-looking object without discernable bird shape or fowl form. I couldn't comprehend what I was looking at and what I saw was horrible. A bird had been sent out and this had been returned, stuffed and shapeless. There was no leg, no thigh, no apparent dark or light meat, no savories stuck in the nooks and crannies of anything even resembling a bird, no pope's nose and no wish bone. And yet the skin of the bird was still whole and intact! It was like reading a very bad tabloid: the juicy particulars had been removed with every last potential bone of contention. The eviscerated turkey flesh was now just a wrapping around the stuffing placed grandly inside.

To this day I don't know how that butcher made those bones disappear. And I have no idea how many hundreds of dollars he must have charged to create the strange magic of that formless boneless turkey presented on that far away table.

I was appalled and it showed. Fortunately, my host family shared a deep and wicked sense of humor and they quickly determined why I was so crestfallen. My very witty host father quickly compared me to that bird and nicknamed me the Flemish Turkey for my apparent lack of recognition for all the effort that had been undertaken to make this a special moment for the American.

The reaction was immediate. Everyone including me laughed so hard that soon we were crying and snorting and having a hard time catching our breath. The awkward moment past, the turkey was served with great fanfare and greatly enjoyed by all. Wine and wonderful beer flowed freely and we learned again about our differences and our similarities. It was a truly wonderful Thanksgiving.

In the years since we have often been reminded of --and laughed about-- that Flemish Turkey. On occasion this story has reminded me of the value of well-timed humility. Sharon and I have been to my host parents' home several times and they were here as family for our marriage. Several of their kids have visited us. I even spoke with both my host parents earlier today and I again remembered and laughed about the "groot kalkoen". The world where an American turkey makes for such fun is a wonderful place indeed.

Sharon and I are so grateful for the kind love of these generous people. Had it not been for them I am certain that I would never have been the person that attracted the beautiful and loving Sharon into my world.

Wherever you are this holiday, whoever you are with, we hope that you are having a wonderful day full of loved ones and their joy. If you happen to make it by the winery this weekend we'll share some of our joy with you. If not, we hope to see you here soon.

Thank you for becoming a part of BOW and Happy Thanksgiving!

Our November 11th email...

Our alarm went off at 6:30 this morning. We rolled over and looked westward out our window at the beautiful Piedmont, once again lit by the sun rising out of the East. Dawn finds the hills a duller brown and mostly bare with the fall. The leaf drop is stark; the gentle roll of the mountain flanks are revealed and the neighbors become easier to find nestled among the tree stands and meadows. Hello Kate! Hey there Steve. Good mornin' Gary! After the verdant summer and the golden fall, the story of November is that the neighborhood is reintroduced. On nights when the wind howls outside we gain comfort seeing many the porch lights shining out from the country darkness along the valley.

The fluries had not yet started as we lay there waking, so there were none of the shimmering ghostlike floating columns of snowflakes that have come out today since. The room was quiet except for the swish/pant/swish of our fuzzy tail-wagging dogs. We didn't say much but we both felt excited. "Today is Chocolate Lab Day. Today we bottle the Chocolate Lab!"

It was a bit early for us. We've been sleeping in a little later and recovering from the craziness of the harvest and crush and tasting room. My feet don't hurt these days and Sharon has been getting back into the gym. But this morning was different. Our customers have been patient, at first quietly waiting for the ChocoLab, then persistently asking for it, then beginning with the pleading, and more recently threatening us with beatings if we didn't get more soon. Lying there...we felt...safer. I rolled over and smiled at Sharon. "hmmmm....not gonna be any beatings." Sharon smiled.

Fast forward to now. Mid afternoon and I'm at my desk writing. The wind is blowing outside my window and I can see the white flurries working their way South to North and West to East. Because the snow showers are clearly viewed as discrete white columns floating over the landscape, I imagine that they could be falling -or rising. I think that maybe there is a giant vacuum up above in the clouds pulling rather than pushing the precip. Was that a lake being sucked up or was that a cloud raining down?

Clearly today is a day for imagination !

But hey, CHECK IT OUT, this is no imagining! We just found out that we made it into the Wall Street Journal. In today's Food & Drink Section is the article: "Wine Events: Post-Turkey Quaffs" written by Melanie Grayce West. Ms. West is my new favorite journalist! Here's the website link: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122722062836545671.html.

Our October 17th email...

Wow. The sun is rising in a thin sliver of light. I am looking out my office window westward toward the PIedmont ridgeline. The clouds are wispy and high and because the sun is just clearing the hills behind me, it fills that gap between the earth and the cloud cover. The light is falling intensely on the Oak Hill estate and on the trees surrounding the old house and it is lovely.

There are so many warm colors in the woods. The words that we use to capture these colors such as orange and red and yellow do not do justice to this beauty. Of course there is still the green in many of the trees and that makes the other tones so much more striking. This is the beautiful time of year.

It is peak in the Piedmont. It begins here and now and will last maybe a week...two if we're lucky. Soon the leaves will be mostly brown. In place of the warm and strong shades wrapped in their remaining crisp greens, the forests will be turning away toward winter. Soon thereafter they'll shed their leaves and the smoke of our fireplaces will drape their bare branches like a shawl around grandmother's shoulders.

These are the great weekends to visit Barrel Oak Winery. We are deep into the harvest. Later today I will drive again to central Virginia to our friends at Keswick Vineyards and pick up our Norton. Sharon and Rick are still hard at work crushing the grapes and crafting the wine. We are very happy with what is being created in the winery downstairs. Our customers continue to enjoy our wines and tasting room and patio views and our staff continues to work their hardest to make everyone's experience memorable. Combined with the show outside our windows, this is the time of year that puts the WOW! in BOW WOW!

Join us won't you?

Our October 10th email...

Columbus Day weekend marks the heart of the harvest. It is the time when the leaves are really turning and the grapes are becoming wine. It is an exciting time! In the words of one of my favorite authors:

"Wine is one of the most civilized things in the world and one of the most natural things of the world that has been brought to the greatest perfection, and it offers a greater range for enjoyment and appreciation than, possibly, any other purely sensory thing."

--Ernest Hemingway

We really believe those words. How about you? Our shared dream grows from our pleasure of wine and the extraordinary people and experiences that it brings into our world. And for this one, beloved Barley and little Justice are along for the ride.

Our september 18th email...

WOW! It is shaping up to be the most beautiful late summer weekend yet! It was 49 degrees this morning and oh so refreshing outside. More is on the way! The air feels so good and clean! I tell ya, this is the perfect weekend to get out to wine country and to join us for the Fall Equinox!

The harvest is such an exciting time in the Piedmont foothills! The new equipment on our new crushpad is working splendidly and our many friends have been coming through and helping out with all of the work! Rick has moved into his tent by the winery to be closer to the tasks at hand and Sharon is getting home at 2am every nite. The fruit flies and the bees are swarming and Brian is driving all over the state collecting 50 tons of delicious grapes...

But you are more than love,the fiery kiss,the heat of fire,more than the wine of life;you arethe community of man,translucency,chorus of discipline,abundance of flowers.I like on the table,when we're speaking,the light of a bottleof intelligent wine.Drink it,and remember in everydrop of gold,in every topaz glass,in every purple ladle,that autumn laboredto fill the vessel with wine;and in the ritual of his office,let the simple man rememberto think of the soil and of his duty,to propagate the canticle of the wine.-pablo neruda

Our September Crush...

We are so very grateful and humbled. Sharon and I have been thinking much about all of the help and love and support that our friends, family, staff, and customers have given to us and we are incredibly grateful to you!

Maybe it's because of the harvest and the crush we began at BOW this week. It is an incredibly busy time and an emotional time. All of our efforts these past two years have led to us now creating our wine for the first time in our own winery. Many new and old friends have been in to help with the enormous amount of work. Many of you have shown your support by buying barrels from us and becoming closely linked to our future. So many of you have come out time and again and told your friends and brought your families.

Maybe it's because we lost Sharon's uncle last month, a good man with a loving and fine family, as well as another good man and friend Joe Gumino who loved to spend Fridays with his friends on BOW's patio. Joe had just started writing an editorial in the Fauquier Times Democrat about green leadership for the county and he had his own dreams about making people happy and bringing people together around a great cause. He is missed and we are grateful that we had gotten to know Joe. Our hearts go out to Doris and his friends and family.

We're grateful because this week when our press broke on the first day of use our friends, family, colleagues and customers came together to help us find and fund a replacement. The timing could not have been better. Can't make grapes into wine without a press and time was so short to effect a solution. Thank you Billy! Thank you Peter and Amy! Thank you Mom! Thank you again Mike and Terri! Thank you Pandit and Sudha and...Mr...Dolphin! Thank you Marcus and Paul!

We're grateful because all of the help we have received from our builders and contractors and suppliers and consultants who made BOW real. Many have worked while receiving partial payments as we juggled funds and found ways to get the essentials installed in time first for opening and now for the crush. Thank you Ron and David! Thank you Verne and Tim and Mike and Herb! Thank you Luther and Rick and Jeb! Thank you Ted and thanks to your great crew including Joe and Jimmy! Thank you Jose and thank you Juan. Thank you Sandra and Tommy and Bob! Thanks Rick for the quick propane install! Thanks to all the guys at Erectors Plus and Haifley Interiors and Star Concrete. Thank you John at Quail Run and Greg at Nitterhouse and the gang at Valley Drilling! Thank you Sima and Anita and John! Heather, the cut glass in the entry door of Barley is awesome! Thanks for the cool lightning rods John, and the amazing wood Eric! Ben and Todd, people love the recycled flooring! Ken, the stainless steel bar top is beautiful and another check is in the mail next week! Thank you for the beautiful and remarkable doors Steve and the rollup doors crew Dan! Thanks for the barn doors Gary! Thank you Luke and Mike and Bill. Gerald, thanks for the wine racks, and thank you Justin and Kristofer for all of the help with the design. Thank you Brian for the steelwork and Joe for the beautiful ironwork and Dean for the welding! Thank you Les and Chuck for the surveying and engineering and Laughlin and Joe for the insurance coverages, and Joe and the guys at NV. Thank you Merle and Phillip, Jeff, Larry, Pat, Jim and Christopher for all of the legal guidance! Thank you Tammi and Roxanne and Sandi for all of the hours volunteering and Jeff and Bobbi and Mike and Terri for the same! Thank you to Laurent for the tanks and to Aki and Coby and Balint and Ed and big Al and big Joe L. for the great equipment! Thanks Tracy! (I'll call this week with a cc). Thank you to our great consultants Chris and Chris and Tom and Alex. Bernie, you rock! And Bruce Zoecklin IS the man! Thank you for the great help Steve and Rob and DJ and Dave and David and Matthew and John and Holli and Jim and Bill and Vicky and Javier! Thank you Sue! We love you Sue! Thank you George and the whole PC and LG crew! Thank you Ray and Susan and Vicky! Thank you for the so very cool logo Judy and thank you Bryan for the great tees. We miss your dad too!

-And for those of you we still owe some money to, the checks keep going out each and every Tuesday once the sales are in the account.

We're grateful that in all of this work and stress and reward and winging it we have a great staff that gives their all to us and to our customers. This would all be imporssible without their passion and commitment and willingness to put up with us. Thank you Kristin, Rick, Matt, Maria, Cathy, Zak, Emily, Tashie, and Benny and Jose who keep the place looking so great!

Thank you to each and every one of our great business partners whose faith in us and this amazing dream made real makes all of this possible!

Finally, our deepest thanks to you for your support of our dreams and our efforts!