Saturday, March 22, 2008

Planting My Vines

We finally did it - my vines are in the ground!

Mom and Dad arrived today while Bobby was out finishing some small tasks at a jobsite near home. I'd already spent the morning cleaning the patio and yard a bit - wiping down tables, shaking the leaves of the hammock, raking up some leaves in the yard - and pulling out the shovels we'd need for our task of the day.

I got out the book I was using as a guide, and we discussed what exactly we needed to do, and how we would stray from the directions - the directions are more for setting up a home vineyard, but I only have two vines (a Cabernet Franc and a Pinot Gris), and they are going at the end of my patio, so I want them to be somewhat decorative too.

I pulled out my bare root vines and set the roots to soaking while we worked. I think Mom and I made a pretty good team - we made excellent time moving the river rocks and digging the first three holes, and it wasn't long until we were planting the first vine.

Instead of burying the posts for the trellis deep into the ground, we buried these cement block things with a metal bracket/saddle attached so you just bolt in the post. We lined those up with the existing posts for the patio, with the vine in between. Instead of the posts being six feet apart, they are a touch more than five.

I'm glad we started early in the morning - it was bright, but still cool out; ideal for working outside. After the first side was done, Mom went to pick up some supplies, while I started moving the river rocks on the other side. She came back with lunch, and by then Bobby had returned, so we sat on the patio together and ate. It was an absolutely stunning day, and I got the sun I was so craving. I was eager to finish the job, and now that the rocks were out of the way, I went to move the tarp so I could start digging my new holes (we laid the tarp down on the grass to keep the dirt off it).

I tried it myself the first time, but there was too much dirt on it. Mom came to help me and after quite a bit of effort it was in place. I grabbed my shovel and began to dig, only to feel pain in my right forearm.

It didn't hurt all the time, just when I used my arm - at all. Bobby helped me acheive the depth on the first hole before going off to help Dad with the door, and Mom did more work on the second half. I kept working, but I'm not as useful with my left hand.

We theorized that I sprained a ligament in my forearm, near my wrist, when I went to move the tarp alone. My arm hurt pretty bad, and I was pretty upset that I hurt myself doing something as simple as moving a tarp. But we finished the task, and long before the boys finished with the door.

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