Harvest Widows Unite!
Harvest Widow: [hahr-vist wid-oh] n. The significant other of one who works in the wine industry during harvest. v. One who looks forward to fall season in anticipation of nights spent sleeping with the dogs, drinking alone or with other harvest widows, and generally living up the single life again. v: To pass as two ships in the night, successfully not seeing each other for days at a time though you may have shared a bed every night. v. Live as if you are dating again; love em’ and leave is the theme.
Bubba is on week three of grape harvest for a fancy winery I will in further mentioning call, The Ritz.
I think Bubba got home about 1am this morning and when I left for work he was sound asleep, curled up with the dogs in hopes of getting another hour before he left to feed the pigs, and head back to the winery. This will be the routine for several more weeks as he works late into or through the night bringing in this year’s grape harvest.
So what does that mean for me and the rest of our farm right now?
Scheduling the last of the pig slaughters and butchering appointments for the year, looking for a location for Oprah for the winter so she is nice and warm and has a companion to keep her company, negotiating deals and networking for expansion plans for next year (more exciting news about this to come soon) and trying to keep up with grape juice soaked laundry, dog training and care, paying bills, cleaning the bathroom that 4 people are sharing (we have harvest interns staying with us- love them!), and now returning to homework for the last legs of my MBA coursework.
All in a day’s work right?
Yeah, freakin right.
The good news- harvest only lasts 8-10 more weeks.
The other good news- other harvest widows band together during this time of year and we share meals, vent about our other halves who have been missing for days, run errands for/with/in emergency situations for one another, and generally enjoy a few weeks of living a pseudo single life.
As the saying goes:
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’
or as my Gramma once advised me (because my Gramma rocks):
“When you’re not near the one you love, love the one you’re near.”