Butt rubbing

You’ve survived another topsy turvy year! That’s a polite way of saying it. A whole season has passed since we last wrote, and the cellar is looking a little slimmer, while our waistlines are now.

The vineyard is once again bursting with activity as our bunchest are (also) in ‘growth’ mode. As you know from the previous newsletter, this requires constant maintenance and violence.

Oh, and butt rubbing. That's what we call it, at least. Apparently the correct name for this acidity - crucial to the way we prefer to make wine for you - is ‘desuckering’. Each to their own!

All the warmth and sunshine signifies the vines to spurt more cans from its trunk and to grow, grow, grow! But by sending its energy to these new buds, it won’t have as much oomph for the existing canes which bear the best fruit. And which will make the best wine.

Wearing gloves, we run our hands down the trunk and knock off any new buds to ensure the canopy of leaves and bunches are right where we want ‘em. That’s butt rubbing.

We’ll leave it at that for now. 

Wishing you all a very happy and safe holiday season. May it be spent with loved ones and a good drop. Our own family will be raising a glass to absent friends and family members, particularly following the recent passing of my father, loving grandfather and great grandfather, Keith. 

Every-practical and industrious, he helped us to make the vine rows we added back in 2003. One row sits a metre wider than the other, due to a measurement error, which we bemusingly tip our hats to in his honour.

Take care, and see you in the new year.

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