One truism in almost everything I do is this: By the end of any project, I am competent to start it properly. Nowhere is this more evident than in viticulture, and backyard vineyards are often a source of great disappointment because we knew so little when we first planted the vines. In the olden days of Europe, viticulture was a trade handed down from generation to generation. People worked the vineyard as children, teens and young adults, and took over management duties when their parents were too aged to do so efficiently. In fact, one of the reasons why they bore children was to provide labor on the family farms. The act of replanting a father’s vineyard was a time-trusted tradition, and those growers did so with an entire life of expertise, support and faith. Understanding the relationship of a family farm and the crops planted there was almost innate. Today farming is anything but innate. You can’t text a vine (OMG, PinoNwah, y u h8 me?), there aren’t reality shows about vineyards (yet), and our culture of media, fast
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