We have finished another harvest season and as we clean up and balance the books we feel intensely grateful. Again luck was with us to a large extent; we had no major hailstorms and our crops did reasonably well. A late spring frost damaged part of the vineyard and decimated our plum crop; still….. we had an inordinate amount of peaches which fetched the best price yet, and our grapes made us the money we need to keep the finca running. Not everyone can say the same. High prices were due to a shortage of produce which means many people had bad luck. Living here we have started to realize that frost and hail do not hit everyone equally; there is clearly a corridor where bad weather hits more often, something the neighbors had been telling us, but which we mistook for misplaced local pride. Some foreigners have bought in these areas and slowly but surely we see expats leaving for greener pastures. It is sad, but it underscores the tremendous risks we all have taken and the unbelievable luck we have had!

When we bought our farm we had no idea what we were in for; we had not the foggiest notion about the amount of work a farm of this size requires, nor did we know that by having a variety of crops we multiplied our workload with each. Fortunately we also increased our chances for survival. This year when our plums yielded nil, nada, zilch, our other crops came through with flying colors. We were secretly happy; now, instead of a continuous harvest from November through April, we were able to take a break during February, the month designated to harvest our d’ Agen plums. And a break we took. We left the farm with a house sitter, who reveled in the stillness and tranquility of the place, while we took off for the mountains. This time I thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

We camped in the high Cordillera, in a valley rimmed by high peaks hiding on and off behind cotton-puff clouds. In the morning we awoke to snow covering the mountains and icicles on our tent. We took a hot bath in the natural thermal pools overlooking a valley so vast and tranquil that it took our breath away. Such a quiet pastoral setting where time had stood still and only nature presided. Condors flew overhead, thousands of geese grazed on verdant pastures and took flight en masse in the evening sky; sheep, horses and cattle roamed freely only to be driven back into the depth of the valley. Each evening we saw gauchos on horseback galloping by with dazzling speed and agility and we marveled at the team work between men, horses and dogs. We reluctantly left this enchanting place to return to the chores on the farm and our major harvest still to come. 

The grapes were harvested in two long days of hard work, but all went well and we are cleaning up. We are preparing our last remaining grapes for homemade wine and the chopped up fruit (must) sits in four large barrels in our backyard. We pressed some of this must to make mistella, a dessert wine that is created by adding pure alcohol to unfermented grape juice. I have already bottled 20 liters of this sweet wine; a quantity that reflects the big hit it was last year. Our backyard is like a beehive with a multitude of bees swarming around the barrels, dipping into the liquid and often drowning. The dogs lap up the spilled–over juices and it is a miracle that no-one has been stung yet. I have picked the last remaining figs for canning, juiced pomegranates for a sweet winter drink and am picking and storing our walnuts to be shelled on a rainy day.

It is always a pleasure when the harvest season starts, but even a bigger joy when the season ends. We feel a sense of pride and accomplishment with the pantry full and tranquility returning. Now, with all the work done, we are off again, this time to Chile to meet up with friends who have come to visit us from the States. We are happy and content; we have come quite a ways since we arrived here only two years ago.