Planting a Vineyard Part 8: Nihil novi

I hope this isn’t a portent or some other bad omen of what’s to come. I’m worried because, from the very beginning, I’ve experienced that everything takes twice as long, and worse, costs twice as much. My business plan called for the removal of two soil terraces, and voilà!

But before I could pat myself for getting everything done on time and within budget, land depressions, or holes, as you may prefer, sprang up like mushrooms after the rain, or collapsed, as you will, and now, like candidates at election rallies, they demand soil uniformity, and therefore a trailerload of additional soil, and therefore equipment and time, and therefore… you guessed it, additional funds.

In moments like these, I tell myself that it’s worth it, because it’s an investment not just for a year but for many years, until I die, and that’s no joke. I tell myself that because what else is there for me?

However, it’s not bad, I would even say it is relatively Good. The weather is staying above freezing, and any minute now I’ll receive a soil analysis so I can properly liming and plowing the area next week. The local agricultural cooperative is also doing a great job: they’re fast and reliable. It certainly helps that Joanna’s mother is a teacher, though now retired, but I suspect the terror of the wooden ruler is vividly and deeply ingrained in the memory of many an excavator operator. In the countryside, I’m slowly realizing, reputation is hard currency, and until they get the hang of it, I’ll be brazenly cashing in, even though I know this strategy has a short shelf life. Because in the countryside, I’m also starting to get the hang of it; everyone knows everything about everyone.