Racking the '05 batch

This weekend, we decided it was time to give our '05 batch of wine its first racking. Making sure the recieving containers and all the related equipment were sterile was the first step. In our new wine room, Pam prepared for the process. It's so nice ... no, it's wonderful! ... to have a dedicated space to do this. Trying to do it the kitchen just doesn't cut it.





















Having the space is one nice thing. Having the equipment is another.


















At the end of the evening, we ended up with something between 55 and 60 gallons. Some was discarded along with the racked must. Some found its way into our glasses for sampling. By the time we quit, it was 9:30 p.m. and, as you can see from the blurred images (I forget to put the camera on auto focus), I couldn't tell if was the camera or me that was out of focus.

So far, the wine seems to be coming out great, from our amateur points of view. Of course, it'd have to be pretty bad for us to see it differently. We're attributing this initial success to temperature control. When Richard and I built the room, we put in 6-inch studs and six inches of insulation, including the ceiling. The result is that I could keep the room at a constant 67 degrees during fermentation.

This is the first year we've had enough grapes to make more than just a little of juice so we tried to make wine from as many of the muscadine grape varieties we could just to experience the differences in taste. Though you can't see all of them on the counter, we have ten carboys ranging from five to seven gallons each: three Nobles, one Cowart/Noble blend, one Black Beauty, three Carlos, one Welder and one Triumph. The taste differences are surprisingly distinctive, yet all with that unique muscadine flavor.

After a one or two more rackings and then filtering, we'll adjust for sweetness (or maybe not), and then bottle it.

Meet Weenie

In 2001, on Halloween day, a fearful little black kitty showed up in the cook shack. When I came out to feed Mickey, our black Chow, that poor little thing would scramble, terrified, to the north fence and into the woods. The first time I saw him, he was just a black streak headed for the north woods. After several encounters, I told Pam there was a cat hanging around the cook shack where I fed the dog.

From that point, it was a game of strategy to befriend this frightened, lonely little kitten that obviously was badly in need of a regular meal.

One day, Pam called to it, as women can do, and the black streak slowed. Eventually, he stopped. She kept making those sounds and after several approaches he let her touch and pet him. The rest is "Weenie", the cat that showed up on Holloween.

In this this picture he stands guard before the cook shack, awaiting any sound or quick movement that will send him fearlessly streaking, now, for the safety of the house.

Weenie was not an apparent male when we first met him. Not wanting a lot of little Weenies, we took him to the vet to have "her" spayed only to be told it was a male that had already been neutered. Imagine our embarassment. Imagine Weenie's.

Today, Weenie is pretty comfortable and gets meals regularly.