I love all the seasons, but if I had to choose a perpetual season, it would be Fall. This is the time of year celebrated throughout the world for the abundance of the harvest. In my particular microcosm, it is a time to celebrate the apple and pear harvest, the grape harvest, and the many wild foods that come to fruition during these blustery (and often warm) weeks. I'd be able to celebrate the garden harvest too, if it wasn't for the bloody deer who seem to think I have nothing better to do with my time than plant vegetables for their epicurean tastes, but I digress.
On Friday, my ever patient and long suffering wife and son took off for the day and left me to my own devices. I was feeling particularly chipper on account of finishing the roof. The thought of being able to sleep through the inevitable storms this coming winter without the sound of tarps flapping and water running down the inside of the walls is quite exciting (it doesn't take much to get me going these days. Sad, but true)
I made a packed lunch and headed off to the forest. People often talk about hunting mushrooms, but I think of it more as hide and seek. It doesn't quite have the same testosterone buzz to it, but I think it is more appropriate. To illustrate my point, take a look at this first photo below. The Salal leaves and ferns take on the same colors as the elusive Chanterelle, so when you first start looking, there are many false alarms. After a bit more experience, you get to see them, even if covered. The photo below that has a little of the debris removed and below that is the final product. Beautiful aren't they. They ended up in a batch of Empanadas with chopped egg, fried banana and rice.
I got back home about lunch time and started into topping up our cabernet. There are two barrels of the stuff in the garage downstairs from 2009. Over time, the wine evaporates out through the wood and needs topping back up again. Because of all the other stuff that needed done, this job hadn't been tackled for a couple of months. I needed a gallon in each barrel which necessitated opening a 5 gallon Carboy (the excess that wouldn't go into the barrel). So there I was with 125 gallons of wine at my disposal, so what do you think I did? Yup, you're right. I siphoned off a taste from each container, and sat back with the garage door open and enjoyed the balmy afternoon. The taste testing necessitated a few more draws from each barrel, and it wasn't too long before the warm sun and the wine took its toll.
I was still down in the garage when the troops came home. I heard my son say to his Mom, "it looks like dad's topped up the wine", to which my sweet wife replied, "He's the one that's topped up by the look of things".
Taken while I could still operate the camera
And so passed a pleasant and peaceful Friday.