It's been a hot minute since I've written anything. The Pandemic seems to have put so many things on hiatus, somehow taking a moment to look around was one of those things.
Learning to be camera ready for Teams meetings, Windexing Mom and Dad’s groceries, pivoting so many times at the winery, less travel, a new job with more travel, surgeries- all seem to have made the time go by so fast.
So now, this year, as we began to get ready for Harvest, I was more appreciative than ever to take a moment and look around. Growing up in the Mid-West, this was always our favorite time of year. An Ohio Fall engages all of your senses: seeing the leaves turn incredible colors and the fireflies circle round, smelling the scents of bonfires and dew, feeling the chill in the air, hearing the crickets and, some years the locusts, and, of course, using your hands to harvest the last of the corn and cucumbers and the first of the pumpkins.
Now that we are officially Californians, Fall somehow still feels the same. It might be muscle memory, but I get the same sense of anticipation- things are changing. We might not have autumn leaves or crickets. We certainly don’t want to start a bonfire. But we are about to finish the harvest and that feels like home.
As a grownup, Fall has begun to have new meaning. My sister and I married Southerners. That meant we married the rich religion of college football. Fall to me now begins about mid-August. This is when the boys begin to focus on the Georgia lineup, who’s looking promising, what strategies need to be implemented and these days, what defines PAC 12, SEC…
Once the games begin so do the rituals. I wear my Georgia socks- if I don’t, they might lose the game and there is just too much at stake to question the validity of it all. All three boys (Dad included) talk through strategy, what coach is great, what plays were incredible.
With harvest in full swing, there are sacrifices being made. Matt and Elissa have been getting up in the middle of the night to harvest the grapes along with our "other brother" Steve Portugal and some other amazing members. We are ALL under strict instructions to NOT say anything about the Georgia game when they return with the latest bins of grapes. We all know Matt will be going home to watch the game, in it's entirety, as though he missed nothing.
I also have my football traditions. I secretly love that I can come home on Saturday night and retire to the bedroom and “Fall into Fall”, watching Hallmark movies with no guilt or embarrassment. I can hang out, read a magazine, and hear the shouts and protests from the living room after a bad call or a great play. We are still connected somehow, in our separate rooms.
Of course, the biggest grownup change that comes with the onset of Fall is that the harvest is now much more than a garden in the back yard or the cornfields that butt up to it. Our Autumn is now early morning harvests yielding literal tons of grapes. It is slow, sloppy drives back to the winery to crush and destem. It is tucking the grapes in 3-4 times a day after punching down and, finally, pressing the beautiful juices to begin their long rest and maturation in barrels.
This is a back breaking, sticky, sweaty, bug riddled exhausting process. It also means a time when the Lester Family comes together in sync. We become a well-oiled machine. We are rusty at first- where did someone hide that beaker, who didn’t clean the floor after they punched down, who’s got the wooden spoon, why did we park these bins so close together. It means late nights and crock pot chili. Work boots and grape stained hands. But, once we hit our stride, we remember why this is so fun, why we are so great together, what this all means.
This year, harvest is also a little more sentimental. It is the first harvest in our new home. I don’t know how many times in the past few months leading up to the move I said to myself, “I can’t wait to get out of this space”. We had no more room for barrels, no storage, hostile HOA issues, no ability to host bands or food trucks. The new space and the amazing partnership with Trois Le Fou is so exciting. We can’t believe how lucky we are. But the old space, that was where the little dream all began. That was where our member wall began and grew. It is where the first member wedding was and where the first wine babies were celebrated. It is where we came to understand that our members really do feel like an extension of our family- and they are. That winery represented all our leaps of faith, our tenacity and perseverance. It was, literally, where it all began.
We couldn't have done ANY of it, the move, harvest, new celebrations without the support and love of our members, our extended family. We really mean that.
So, here’s to whatever Fall means to you, to our hopeful future and to the new ride we know you will take with us.