|Posted on October 4, 2010 at 10:48 PM|
My first wine sale occurred last Friday, a good 5+ years since we started the vineyard. It was 10 bottles of Sand Cherry Kiss, sold to returning nurses celebrating 50 years since they graduated from the old Presentation Sisters nursing program that was held in the old old hospital many years ago.
What makes the date provocative, at least for me, is that it was my 62nd birthday. Ironic, that on the day I officially qualified for Social Security, I made the first sale in a new business. Now the philosophical hat is on....
Over the years we've all heard of people who retired, put their feet up and died within several months. The ones that last, the ones more likely to stay healthy, both mentally and physically, are those who keep themselves alert, active, thinking, committed. It's important to have some kind of passion in life. Right now, occupationally speaking, my primary passion is demonstrating that eastern Montana can grow good fruit, including grapes, and can make good wine.
One of the reasons I'm so enamored of nature is that she is so predictable, in the macro sense. Every year in March or April, spring comes. Robins return and eat worms. Weeds, and crops if we are lucky, will soon be emerging from the soil. Tomato fruits will follow blossoms. Grapes will grow on vines. Cooler weather eventually will arrive and winter will bring blessed relief from lots of hard work.
We wish human relationships were as reliable and certain. We wish job security were so certain. We wish our economic well-being were so constant.
When I find my life in flux and am anxious about all the uncertainties, then teaming up with Mother Nature by piggybacking onto her agenda, her timetable, her predictable laws, helps me feel that at least a part of my life has a trustworthy rhythm.
I think about these things when every day in Autumn I spend an hour picking raspberries, searching for the ripe ideas that appear suddenly in my mind as the fresh berries appear in my range of view. The minor backache, pesky mosquitos and the late afternoon long sun in my eyes seem minor as I consider sipping the nectar of fresh squeezed raspberries on my tongue in January's blizzard as I open up a dark rosé bottle of Tongue River Winery Red Raspberry wine.
Best to all of you. Bob
Categories: IN THE WINERY