a continuation of [ reflections ] my gramma and boppy's house.
My grandparent's are movers: they like to do things; plant things; create things. My family talks about the many roadtrips my grandparents have taken, and every year, we head up to Woodland. We're seeped in traditions and our whole family is filled with a passion for creating. One of my grandpa's newest projects (by new, I mean in the last couple of years) is his vinyard.
He has four rows of grape vines and several different varieties. I've tasted a few, and while the grapes aren't ready yet (sour in your mouth), they're sweet and have a good flavor. He has several varieties, but my favorites are the small purple ones (for lack of the technical name).
The grapes were only long rows linked by string holding small little sticks when he planted them. I remember clearly when I first saw them -- we walked out to the back and ambled around some apple trees while angling towards his vineyard. The grape plants were little and I remember wondering if they'd ever be large enough to eat from. I asked him, "so they'll really be grapes?" and he said, "oh, yes." We talked about grapes and plants and he told me about growing things. For some reason, hearing about the earth and why things grew and how best to grow them thrilled me. Perhaps it was because my boppy loves that sort of thing and it's hard to not love it with him around.
I can't explain what it is about my grandpa that makes you excited about life. I've spent many days picking peas or cutting apples from his orchard while listening to him tell stories from when he was young. He's full of facts and info and advice on nearly everything -- gardening, growing, building, and making a mean plate of sausage for breakfast. I love him and my grandma so much.
I'm excited for when the grapes are fully grown and ripe for picking. The vineyard is now tall and leafy and another project that has been completed. And now, I can't wait to hear what the next one will be.
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