Sunday, November 7, 2010

Autumnal Alchemy: The Genius of KeriGlen


This late October when my garden is but a ragged corpse, betrayed yet again by flirting summer, I open my email and my eyes light up like its Christmas morning with a fresh falling snow…it’s a message from Elsie.

“The wine is ready to be bottled! Would you like me to label them or do you want to design your own label?”

Wow! Design my own label! Name my own brand? Isn’t that a once-forever event like naming your firstborn or your yacht? Did not the ancient Hebrews’ naming of a newborn child also bestow upon that child its future destiny? My breath shortens and my chest tightens from the pressure – this is not an endeavour to be taken lightly, these solemn words intoned by the pastor at my niece’s wedding for some strange reason, came back to me.

It was a glorious bright blue and brilliantly sunny August day when I had just finished my final yoga pose on Elsie and Fred’s wonderful new deck. Blissed-out and ready for the adventures of another perfect day in the Okanagan, I selected an Elsie specialty- a beautifully plump blueberry muffin from the overflowing basket on the table and poured a cup of Dancing Goat, a deep, dark and rich South American and Caribbean blend with mocha overtones. (one of the coffee treasures I found at the Saturday market from Backyard Beans, the local micro roaster). As I settled down in the lounger, coffee in one hand and the breakfast muffin in the other, I noticed that Elsie was busy at the table scribbling on a notepad and adding up a list with her calculator.

So, do you want to go with the Riesling you had last night for dinner with Fred’s roasted chicken or the Merlot that we had with the grilled New York steak the night before? I could only squeal “yes, please” before I realized that Elsie was putting together her KeriGlen wine order for the 2011 season. Or she mused, the Cab Sav was lovely last year – or maybe you would like to split case of each?

What great fortune had landed me back at KeriGlen for this precise moment? What stars had aligned and planets had spun to bring me to this inaugural time? I would love a half case of Riesling and a half case of Merlot, I sputtered…this was truly a day to be seized! Great, Elsie replied, tallying my order on her paper, I’ll let you know in the fall when it’s ready to be bottled.

Three months later in the depths of the soul-grinding fall start up of a new semester, Elsie’s email arrived...the wine is ready for bottling

Hmmm… the possibilities flooded my mind as the long ago packaged and stored memories like seasonal ornaments boxed in the depths of the basement were opened a crack...yes, there were all there again - yoga on the deck, the fresh and still warm blueberry muffins and Dancing Goat coffee, against the backdrop of Elsie’s riotous red and orange and yellow roses and the sapphire blue lake waving in a 32ยบ brilliant August afternoon. And these memories warmed me along with the thermostat kicking in the gas fireplace in my chilly room sunroom in what is now November.

Two weeks later, I was still pondering the ideas of colours and graphics and clever names when the doorbell rang. Here’s the first box Elsie greeted me with a huge grin and her arms full of a bottles of wine...there’s three more in the car. Now remember you can’t touch the Merlot until April!

And just like that, the bottles of Okanagan sunshine and dirt and rain and wind and grape became our own. And yes, after all that agonizing over naming this first born miracle, the bottles now sit happily nestled in the racks downstairs, oblivious that they are naked of label or nomenclature. And there they will rest in an August-to-April Alchemy.

But the greatest miracle is this – that thanks to the genius of Elsie and the marvel of the Great Ideas of KeriGlen, I have discovered that it is indeed possible to time travel and that resurrection, for my garden and for me, is a certainty.