If you lived here, you'd be....home?

When I'm working at the winery, I'm often asked by customers what it's like to live here, amidst the vine-covered hillsides, the wineries and the tasting rooms. Mostly the question comes from folks visiting on weekend jaunts from Los Angeles or the Bay Area. They find a winery, sit under an oak tree surrounded by colorful vines and just take a breath and relax. They talk about how they long to get out of the city and find a slower and more peaceful existence.

There's certainly some good geographic public relations that goes on in the longing for wine country, since some of the most beautiful places on earth are also ones where wine is grown. And it's been that way for at least a couple of thousand years.  Wine culture is rooted in the histories of some of the most sublime, temperate places on the planet. And I'm not sure people would be dreaming of being here quite as much if kumquats were our chief product. Something about being around all this wine makes people think their lives will be just one long pour, smooth on the palate with a lovely finish.

They're kind of right in most of their assumptions. It is amazing living here. There is wine everywhere, and even the most backwater resident, with no interest in wine whatsoever, generally still manages to acquire some wine knowledge and usually more bottles of it than they know what to do with. It's currency here. 

Business meetings generally feature wine. Grocery stores offer wine tasting. And most public events, like concerts in the park, allow -- no, expect -- you to be bringing wine to them. You could walk down the street with a bottle of wine (open or not) and no one would interfere with you, because we see it every day.

But because of the wine industry, we are also a tourist town, and there are negatives that come with that.

We have traffic, for instance. Traffic made worse by wine tasters clearing out the tasting rooms (all 250 of them) late in the afternoons, especially on weekends. My dad was a cop, and always told me that you can tell drunk drivers not by their speed, but by the fact that they drive badly at very slow speeds. Dad was right. I've seen the most bone-headed driving decisions in my life since living here. Probably made by people who were either drunk or hung over.

Being a tourist town also means we cater to, curry favor with and try and impress the outsider -- not the resident. So we have incredible restaurants but horrible, understocked and overcrowded grocery stores. We have charming boutiques, but the nearest Macy's is over an hour from home. Large furniture store? Forget it. And if you want your roof fixed, better get on a four month waiting list, because the few contractors who work in this area are loathe to take on small jobs. It's just too expensive to live here to make charging less than a fortune a worthwhile thing. Why patch a residential roof when you can help put one on a new tasting room?

The roads around town also reflect this attitude. Since I've lived here (we arrived in 2012) they have re-done all the roads around the downtown City Park twice (for tourism) but the road in front of the local baseball fields (for residents) is so pothole-filled and old I figure damage must have come from wagon wheels back in the 1800s.

In other words, we put our best face on for those coming to see us from elsewhere. And once you decide to live here, that's when you see the other side.

It just goes to show that everything, and I mean everything, has problems.  Trade spouses, careers, homes or locales and you will find positives and negatives. Most of the time, unless things are really bad, the trick is to learn to live with the good and accept the bad. Or take a risk and change things up, move, break out of a relationship or start a new job and basically turn your Scrabble letters in for a whole new set.

It's a personal decision, and one which is not to be made lightly. Because, just like the Scrabble game, while life's problematic "z's" and the "q's" are hard to manage, there is always a chance that in turning in your letters you'll end up with far worse --  maybe five vowels, an "x" and a "w." 

And you can't do much with that once it happens.

Hot summer days..and nights.

Hello, sunshine.

It absolutely amazes me that my plants can handle being outside when it's like this. The month of June here on the Central Coast has had three weeks with significantly above average temperatures..meaning in the 100-degree range. 110 yesterday, 109 the day before; you get the idea.

And yet, here are my lovely plants in all their greenery. While they are not exactly thriving in the heat, they are definitely surviving. The plants at the winery are doing similarly well. Which is more than I can say for myself. How do they do it?

Growing strong.

For humans, there's a completely different time schedule when days are like this. You must finish your chores by about 9 a.m., when the temperatures hit 90 degrees. You must close all the curtains and blinds in the house to keep out the heat. Running the air conditioning is not optional at this point, it's mandatory. Our house thermostat is generally set at about 78 degrees and the a/c comes on by about 4 pm. (A testimony to what good insulation can do for you). 

And of course, you must content yourself with sitting inside throughout most of the day with a good book, and using the "chore and hide" method of being outside, where you pop out the door for about five minutes to complete some task (which you no doubt forgot to do before 9 am) and then run back inside to the cool house before you begin melting onto the sidewalk.

Big Ag says that the summer heat is something you acclimate to, but he's a native of Arizona so no acclimation necessary on his part. For me, summer is my season of discontent. It's when I check weather.com and look at how other places (like Spokane, which we just visited in May) are faring in the high days of summer. I dream of autumn, of sweaters, and most of all, I dream of rain. Lots and lots of rain.

But there are a few advantages to this kind of heat, believe it or not: The outside clothesline dries clothes much faster than a clothes dryer can. It doesn't matter whether you hang it out at 9 am or at 6 pm. It will be dry in about an hour. You also have a built-in excuse for not tackling any large outside task. And the term "summer reading" jumps to a whole new level when it's pretty much all you can do on a burnt-to-a-crisp 110 degree afternoon.

Not amused.

You could also amuse yourself (if that's even the right word) by watching coverage of the state burning up in various wildfires, some close, some farther away. But it's just too heartbreaking to see the toll in terms of human and wildlife loss. So instead I'm watching the first two seasons of "Vicious," a PBS show about two elderly gay men living in Britain. It's absolutely hilarious. Sometimes you have to laugh, or you'll never stop crying.

Our evenings also cool off nicely most of the time. Last night we went to an Industry Night being held downtown and stopped in at our favorite winery, Bodegas, to taste and buy.  Then we took ourselves out to dinner (too hot to cook -- another great excuse in summer). And by the time we got home, we were able to open the windows and let in a little nighttime breeze.

While it's true that I'm still counting the days until autumn, I will accept summer's compensations and enjoy them. They'll be here for at least another four months, so I'd better!

Four-bottle box of Spanish-varietal deliciousness from Bodegas Winery. Yum!

Mother's Day

So Mother's Day is one of those holidays which is kind of hit and miss around here, especially now that the kids are grown. We've had days where A Grand Effort was made, and other years when not much happened.  This year was, surprisingly, the former.

Gardens at the Paso Inn

We started out by having brunch at the Paso Inn (along with what seemed to be about half the residents from around here). It was busy but we got awesome seating -- outside, next to a huge bed planted with Stock (which smelled absolutely amazing) and instead of fold up seats, were given huge comfy wicker lounge chairs to sit in. Don't know who Big Ag or my son Trains (so called for his love of anything that rides on rails) paid to get the VIP treatment or if it was just luck, but I'm taking it happily, however it happened.

Once brunch was over we started discussing what to do. A walk on the beach was thrown around, but because it was such a nice day we decided to come home. You see, in summer we'll be 100 degrees here and the beach will be an awesome and welcome cool-off, but right now home is the place to be if you want blue skies, gentle breezes, and wonderful views.

Home is where the hang-out is.

And then the Gift portion of the day began. Got a sweet planter in my favorite color from the lovely and thoughtful stepdaughter we don't see often enough, and got this mug and dish towel from Trains' girlfriend (she can become a permanent fixture as far as I'm concerned), and awesome NASA oven mitts and t-shirt from Trains. Yes, NASA oven mitts! My stepson Groceries called in from his Navy base in South Carolina in the evening, and it was great to get to talk to him as well.

NASA oven mitts and assorted goodies. Love it all!

My gifts have a definite dichotomy between Farm and Land and Space (The Final Frontier), which would make total sense if you knew me since I'm a bit of both. Grounded but spaced out -- sometimes literally.

And while I hate to say that being taken out to brunch or given lovely gifts -- you know, material things -- makes me feel loved, the fact is, it did!

It's all about water

The first week in March, residents of my area will have the chance to vote either for or against formation of a new water district to manage the dwindling groundwater levels in our basin. All over the county there are "Yes on Water District" and of course "No on Water District" signs.

The conflict has been civil thus far, with both sides respectfully disagreeing with the other. My boss, for instance, is a "vote yes" kind of guy, as most vineyard owners are. We, owning just under two acres, are a "no" family.  It's not so much the idea of a water district we're against -- a different district make-up and we probably would have voted yes for it -- it's just that we're uncomfortable with the make-up of members and how they are chosen. 

If no water district is chosen, the County will end up managing the basin, something they've said they are prepared and ready to do.

Anyway, the proposed district's make-up goes like this: Three members are homeowners, voted in by other homeowners. The other nine seats are chosen via vote for slots representing the size of the acreage you own. So there are three slots for large landowners, three for medium landowners, and three for small landowners.

Wherein lies the problem. Because a "small" landowner is defined as owning 30 acres or less. Unfortunately most of the real "small" landowners here -- the ones whose wells have been going dry -- own 5 acres or less. 

Everyone I personally know who owns over 20 acres is growing something on it -- either alfalfa, wine grapes, or olive trees. And members will be chosen by voters being allowed one vote per acre. Meaning that the business people growing wine grapes on their 30 acres will have 30 votes, versus our two votes for our small holding of just two acres. Thus, the category that should be fighting for the little guy probably will not be, as they're not so little after all.

One morning at work about six months ago I met a very lovely older gentleman who owns a small winery and 30 acres of land not far from where we are. We had a very respectful discussion about water and water rights. His position is identical to that of most of the larger landowners who are growing something on their land -- they consider the water under their property to be theirs, to use as they wish. 

In his words, "The day someone comes to my gate with a meter they want to put on my well -- so they can know how much water I'm using -- is the day I meet them at the gate with a shotgun. It's my water and I'll use it as I please." This is an exact quote.

I tried mentioning to him that the aquifer under our feet was more like the air we breathe -- his air does not stay directly on his property for his use, as air flows. The water flowing underground onto his property comes from somewhere and (if there's any left) goes somewhere else -- probably to his neighbor's. It didn't matter. I think since all he could see from his back patio was his land and his vineyard, he also believes it all must be his water underground, too. And so we elected to disagree on the topic of water rights.

But that gentleman could very well end up representing us "small" landowners on the new water district board, should it go through. He's got 30 votes after all. If he decides to run, he'll get lots of help with election costs from his business friends, who are larger grape-growers he's chummy with who would probably love to see him on the board, due to his sympathies towards large landowner water usage. And that scares me. 

So I will be voting "no" on the new water district, because, although County control is not ideal, I'm more confident they will take our needs into account than a grape grower whose livelihood relies on them being able to use water, at will, to keep their tonnage weights up and their profits good. If there were endless water, that would not be an issue, but until we have a permanent solution in hand for our water woes, conservation is the order of the day -- for everyone, whether you own 2 acres or 2,500. 

I'm not confident that a "fox guarding the hen house" situation is what's needed here.

A little slice of heaven (photo heavy)

Creston, California -- a little slice of heaven just down the road.

I got to spend yesterday with a good friend/coworker, traveling the back roads of our county for a special Industry Afternoon, hosted by several wineries of the "Creston Wine Trail."  The Creston Wine Trail is a relatively little-known area around the funky, cute town of Creston, a locavore's heaven if ever there was one. It's probably what Paso Robles was like 25 years ago -- small, intimate, with uncrowded tasting rooms and fantastic wines and locally grown and raised food.  

If I was recommending this area to someone who wanted to "get away from it all," I would recommend the Creston area. It really does feel like a little slice of heaven as you are driving through the gently rolling hillsides and green fields.

August Ridge Vineyards

One of the greatest parts of my job is that doing things like this is such an important part of it.  In a tasting room your main job is as wine educator; informing people not only about the wines you are pouring, but about wines and the region in general. It's always nice to spend a day like this in the company of knowledgable and competent peers, because I always learn so much about our region and wines it is capable of producing.  There's also always a lot of shop talk about number of punch-downs and pump-overs, specific yeasts and their benefits, as well as talk about where the industry is headed.

Unofficial mascot at Shadow Run Vineyards and Winery

We stopped at several wineries as part of the tour, as well as an olive-oil producing tasting room which also featured locally grown-and-harvested lamb for sale. I am not a lamb person, but my friend David was, and so he talked meat with the operations manager while I sampled some of the incredible flavored olive oils, vinegars, and other products.

Another huge perk to working in the wine business is that we generally receive anywhere from a 30 to a 50 percent discount on any bottles purchased at other wineries when we visit.  And tasting is always free. This allows us to sample other wineries' fare and then make good recommendations to our customers, depending on what they are looking for. I know that just from my afternoon spent on the Creston Wine Trail that it is something I can now wholeheartedly recommend not only to customers, but also to friends and family who visit and want to get off the beaten path of the most popular 20 or so wineries that everyone seems to visit when they come to Paso.

My two favorite wines from Chateau Margene -- Pistolero Chardonnay and Mooney 2012 Pinot Noir.

Not only were these wines great, but you also got the chance, at each venue, to sit and chat with the owner (who is usually also the winemaker) and get to know the character of both the wine and its maker at the same time.  It means that by the time you leave, you feel more like a neighbor or friend than just a customer, which I think is an important (and unfortunately, rapidly disappearing) part of any wine country experience.

Mmm. Delicious salad and marinating possibilities!

I came home full of great food and with a bag of new wine purchases, as well as olive oil and balsamic vinegar, which means not only will I be making some great food, but now have even more options on what I can serve it with. Yes, for us it was just another day at work, but sometimes here in wine country a day at work can also be a little slice of heaven.