I spent the last two days inventing things to do like labeling liquor bottles and then translating all of their wine descriptions into English (Currently I have 14 of 31 done), which would have helped immensely before going to Paris. Apparently it’s like everything else I’ve encountered here, much harder than originally anticipated. As I finished up the labels I heard a rumor that the vineyards mini car/cargo thingamajig (that’s a shout out to you, Becky) was going to be available for like an hour. “I can do some damage in an hour,” I tell myself. I get the keys, l’assurance, some other official document, and a note from the vineyard saying, “please don’t arrest the American.” Armed with enough paper to stock Kinko’s for a day I depart to the store where I commence to buy every liquid I can find. Liquid is heavy folks and picking up a twelve pack and riding up a mountain on a bike is not my idea of fun. I did have a moment though at the store when I realized that Stella Artois is outrageously inexpensive here as I bought a twelve pack for 6 Euros. I nearly bought the rack but believe it or not, I even have a stop button.
Honestly I was in hiding mode since I just wasn’t ready to go back to the field because descende du bois was done and arché was already under way. Let me explain something, due to my countless wrecks on half-pipes I have numerous injuries mostly to my head and hands and arché involves taking the twig vipers I love to hate so much and arching them down to the bottom wire and affixing them with either wire or string. Essentially we make the baguette look like the M from the golden arches without all the guilt and gas. I was more than worried that my hands, that have the dexterity of link sausage, just wouldn’t hold up. Well, today came and there was no turning back as I was due in the field and of course it’s raining, hard, cold rain. My hands already hurt as I step outside.
Sorry but I have to interrupt this because as I type this the news is on and I watch a hippo open the front door of a house, after stepping on the dog, and walking inside. The camera follows it into a kitchen where a woman is talking about her pet, the hippo, and tossing chunks of whatever into the hippo’s face. Even though it’s being dubbed in French I know it’s got to be an Aussie family. No one else on earth would do that and finally there is a break in the French and I hear clearly…an Australian accent. God bless you silly bastards. I’m sure you’d laugh right now at my spider problem though. BTW, the dog that was stepped on is fine.
Benôit and I head to the field and for some reason he’s enjoying practicing his English, which is killing my French, and tells me I need pockets. Check, I have pockets but have no idea why I need them. Finally he stuffs a roll of coiled string with a metal core into my pocket. “Ok,” I think, first question answered. Then he hands me another tool that is reminiscent of mon sécateur but has a twisty feature that makes me feel better since I realize I won’t have to be tying the knots myself and that my hands might not be as much of a factor as I thought. Confident, I strut into the rows of twig vipers whispering at most of them that they will soon be mine and this time I’m bringing the pain not vice versa.
I don’t know how I have any confidence left. Either I truly am an idiot or I really just don’t care enough about making an ass out of myself. The string is properly placed in my pocket so I can pull it out without any resistance and I have my tool and I pull the vine and twist it down as they all ramble at me in various versions of the best way and of course I understand little if any since they are now down to the science and I am still at the stage of ordering coffee in a café sort of French. Ok, I’m not that bad but seriously people talk slower! I finally get it all and pull back with my new tool and all seems well until I spin the tool into the vine essentially locking it to the twig viper. Merde!
Fast forward an hour and I barely have a hang of it as I either break the wire or attach the tool to the vine or at one point attaching my glove to the vine along with the tool. I know Benôit was trying to pep me up when he came over and said, “Soon, you realize it is an easy job” but it did nothing for my frustration level. Luckily my glove was stuck to the vine or else I would have slapped him with it. Any way, fast forward seven hours and I have it down and on most rows I’m not the last to finish and in a moment of karma Benôit loses a vine and it swings up and slaps him square across the face. Of course if it had been me, the vine would have carried along with it the tool and my glove just to punctuate my defeat.
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