It is a quiet day on the farm, the first gentle rain after a 2-month hiatus keeps us confined to the house. Work on the land has stopped, and although this is already a quiet time it is even quieter yet. We do not mind, rest is welcome and we are comfortable in front of the fire, doggies and all. We have learnt to make a fire Argentinean style, which  consists of a large tree trunk stuck into the glowing coals, sliding it in as fire consumes the end; at the outset you have a tree lying about your floor, two of them if it is very cold. We love this relaxed approach to housekeeping: no sawing, chopping or splitting wood, no measuring and fitting of smaller logs, just dust and ashes. But who cares? ….....one sweep and it is out the door. We have started to grill our meat over the glowing coals in the fireplace; for today ‘chorizo’ is on the menu, a gift we received from a nearby ‘carneo’. No shopping, no  pots or pans to clean. We love the easy-going lifestyle of the countryside and we have come to adopt many of its ways, although not all.

Animals are dealt with in a rather matter of fact way, nature in general takes its course. Many dogs and cats are left to wander the streets and fend for themselves, something that is hard to take for a Westerner. It is not that people here are mean to their animals, in general they are not, but unless they are an economic asset, they are not a priority either. Many people will not spend their hard-earned income on veterinarian care; spaying or neutering is mostly not done. It means that male dogs are welcome but females are not, after all who wants an extra litter of puppies. We have now two additional female dogs in the very early puppy stage. They were left along the street and wandered onto our property. We had already passed along many strays that came our way, but these last two pulled at our heartstrings and we let them stay. Their presence is an adjustment for all, especially on a day like today when front-row space in front of the warm fire is limited and elbows or paws are needed to make place, but their antics are charming and they warm our hearts.  We must learn to harden ourselves, lest we end up like two of our Argentinean friends who have now a pack of 27 running in their backyard!!!

This year we made our first wine ever; a slightly fruity, clear-red liquid, 150 tasty liters of it in all. We almost did not get started; we were tired after the main harvest and had no interest in walking all the grape rows again. Moreover the instructions we found in a wine-making book seemed so complicated that it left us with a headache before we even started. Fortunately we ran into a Swiss couple on their world tour. They camped on our land for several nights and were itching to keep their hands and minds occupied. We did not object. They gleaned the vineyard of several hundred kilos of grapes, while we provided lip-service to helping. The book instructed us to get the grapes ready for fermentation that same day; but we had started the process on the spur of the moment so we were not prepared. Many ‘necessary’ items were missing or we did not know what they were. But in Argentina one does not despair. Our neighbor came over and showed us the ropes. Nothing to worry about: given the cold weather the grapes will hold out for at least another week; necessary items can be found or borrowed from relatives near and far. Buying is optional but strongly advised against. And then……..it turns out wine-making is easy: get a big oil drum, scrub it with sand, line it with something impermeable, chop up the grapes (grinder if you have it, or…..if you lack this implement, your own two feet), throw the chopped grapes, pits, skin and all into the drum, let it sit and ferment, using a hollow stick so that the fumes can escape. We borrowed an antiquated press for the next step, wringing all the fermented juice from the grape pulp, a process that took several days, each time you pass you give it a crank and another, and another and….. This fermented juice then sits for another 10 days or so to let the impurities settle and out comes your first clear wine, which you let age in a barrel of any type until you deem it fit to drink. Et voilà, ‘vino casero’, home-made wine Argentinean style; ‘vino patero’ if you used your feet for crushing the grapes. No pretense or snobbery; no hype or fads; no adherence to fashion just the simple creation of a drink that suits your palate with left over grapes and borrowed tools in three easy steps. I love it!            

The final work of the season will be the preservation of black and green olives. We have several olive trees for family use which are now heavy with large, plump black fruits. The green ones were picked early in the season and the neighbor took about 50 kilos for processing. Preservation of green olives looked even more daunting than making wine! The black olives will be picked in the next couple of days and bartered for cold-pressed olive oil; about thirty kilos, or however many will fit in a pillowcase will be preserved in salt so they dry out and shrivel to half their size; when ready for use they are plumped up with oil and vinegar and any flavoring to your liking. Each house has its own recipe; I’ll have to add mine.

Nothing here gets done half-hearted, nothing is in small quantities either; we work with buckets, barrels, drums and vats under the clear skies outside with frost on the ground and ice on our breath. Yet when done you have something to show for, a full year’s supply or so you think. If we keep tasting the wine at the rate we have been there will be nothing left at the time it really gets good. But then…….another year and another harvest will come……all too soon!

Santé, proost, cheers …to good health and joyful living!