Wines I'm Making: Vines Pruned (March 14, 2013)

In the past couple of days I've finally finished pruning the grape vines and making some progress toward getting the nets put away. They will have to be squared away before I can weed under the two rows of plants. I hope the grapes do well this year. 2013 will be our 10th vintage.

Music I'm Listening To: The San Francisco Symphony at the Green Music Center (March 7, 2013)

I attended the March 7, 2013 performance of the San Francisco Symphony at the Green Music Center. Michael Tilson Thomas conducted Drift and Providence, by Samuel Carl Adams, the Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 4 (Yuja Wang, soloist), and the Brahms Symphony No. 1.  Conductor Thomas led a precise and satisfying interpretation of the Brahms symphony with an especially lush second movement. The woodwinds in particular were memorable, especially the oboe in the first movement, the clarinet in the second, and the flute in later movements. The oboe sounded especially poignant following the sudden unexpected death of the Symphony's principal oboist, William Bennet, February 28, following his collapse from a brain hemorrhage on February 23 during a performance. The basses, trombones, and percussion were remarkably resonant. This new hall seems to emphasize the low end of things. I wonder if conductors have to learn a new hall and adjust their performances to it? I imagine they do. The tympani at the end of the piece were played with special verve, I thought.

Yuja Wang's performance of the Beethoven Concerto was met with a standing ovation. With the exception of a momentary stumble in the first movement (my imagination?) it was impeccable, marked by crisp articulation and fleet fingering. She wore a citron yellow gown off one shoulder with a draped bodice and a long, full skirt with a daring slit--very pretty and rather more conventional than the "bathing suit" she chose the last time I saw her perform.

To me, however, the highlight of the evening was the opening piece, Drift and Providence. I didn't realize until today (reading the program notes) that Samuel Adams is the son of composer John Adams. It runs in the family, apparently, as does art generally: His mother is photographer Deborah O'Grady. I also see from the liner notes that the piece is in five movements, each of which is labeled with references to the West, and San Francisco in particular. Listening to the piece for the first time without knowing that, I'd have been hard-pressed to say where one movement began and another ended. The music clearly had sections, but the overall effect was of a broad, multifaceted, shifting layer of sound with no clearly defined breaks. Talking with the composer after the concert, he called it "kaleidoscopic." It gave me the impression of a progression from a mellow, sleepy state to a new state of consciousness more agitated and aware than the first, followed by a kind of compressed recapitulation of that progression and then a raucous summing up. The early parts of the piece suggested metal wind chimes, a gamelan orchestra, wind, and waves--but all as if heard with the ears of someone heavily drugged--this followed by a shift (the "drift" of the title, no doubt) in the direction of something brighter. The dreamy, shimmering quality of much of Drift and Providence is enhanced by the use of a computerized feed of processed sound, manipulated by the composer during the performance. It's a piece I'd like to hear again.

We attended a gathering for the artists after the concert. Yuja Wang decided not to appear. Michael Tilson Thomas looked bored and distracted and eager to leave--not that I blame him. Samuel Adams was a delight to talk with. It turns out he lives in Brooklyn, where I spent my earliest years. He even knew the street I lived on, St. John's Place--our stickball field.

Photos courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony. Photo of Deutsche Grammophon artist Yuja Wang © Felix Broede. Photo of composer Samuel Carl Adams by Deborah O'Grady.

Rain: Storm Brought More Rain This Week (March 8, 2013)

Storms earlier in the week brought strong winds and a little more rain. We got 0.55 inches at my location. That brings our total for the 2012-2013 rain year to 23.45 inches. Average for this date in March is a little over 29 inches, so we are about 5.5 inches below normal now, having been nearly 10 inches ahead near the start of the season.

Plants I'm Growing: In the Garden (March 5, 2013)

Activity is beginning to pick up in the garden, although it's started pouring with rain today, which will likely ruin the flowers on the fruit trees. In the past few days, the Flavor Queen pluot and the Santa Rosa plum have come into bloom. The golden current (Ribes aureum) is in full bloom (photo below). The manzanitas are blooming, and the dwarf peach and nectarine behind the house are coming into bloom as well (photo above).

Food I'm Eating: Olives 2013 (March 5, 2013)

The olives are coming along nicely. They've been in brine for going on a month now. I started them on February 10. Two years ago when I made olives I simply brined them. This year, following a recipe my neighbor used, I left them in brine for the first three weeks, but a few days ago I drained them and put them in containers with new brine, substituting a quarter cup of red wine vinegar for some of the water and added lemons, bay leaves, and a mix of herbs, including rosemary, thyme, marjoram, and savory--in a typical herbs de Provence sort of blend. The rosemary is from the garden. The smaller olives (I used two varieties, one from our own tree, one from a neighbor's tree) are nearly ready. In fact, I may transfer them back to plain brine sooner rather than later so they don't take on too much of the vinegar character. The larger ones are still somewhat bitter and will require another week or so. The brining seems to take about five to six weeks. So far, they look (and taste) very promising. To see the original post on this blog about this year's olives or about making olives in past years, search on "olives" in the search box.

Beekeeping: Harvesting Honey (March 5, 2013)

The past few days have been occupied with harvesting honey from my beehive. Sadly, we lost the bees again this year. With no bees to tend the comb, I decided I'd have to remove all the honey from the hive to avoid its being ruined or robbed by other bees or wasps. It took four days--mostly because I was extracting honey in the midst of doing other work, but it was still a big job. I harvested enough honey for a couple of years at least (55 pounds). Local friends and family will be getting presents, but I may try making mead.

The hive does not appear to be diseased. It's not clear what happened. I had seen activity as recently as about three weeks before I realized something was wrong. On one of the few recent warm days we've had, no bees were entering or leaving the hive and it was clear that the colony was lost. I'm hoping to find a swarm of bees as soon as possible, to get the hive going again. 

Wines I'm Drinking: 2010 Windsor Oaks Vineyards Russian River Valley Rosé of Pinot Noir

I opened a bottle of the 2010 Windsor Oaks Vineyards Russian River Valley Rosé of Pinot Noir tonight and was pleasantly surprised--not that I had any reason to expect this wine wouldn't be good. I was surprised simply because I like rosé and I'm always happy to find interesting ones, and many are dull. Brief tasting notes follow.

A very pretty wine--as a rosé should be. A beautiful brandy-tinged pink. Very attractive in the glass. Scents of strawberries and watermelon with a hint of caramel in the background. On the palate, very much as suggested by the nose--a sweet, fruity impression at first, suggestive of watermelon and strawberries, but also with a slightly caramelized or brandied flavor as well. Hints of cherries and almonds on a fairly extended finish. Good balancing acidity. The label calls this wine "refreshing, but NOT SWEET" (emphasis theirs), but this seems quite sweet to me. Although the label says the winemaker has modeled the wine after the very dry rosés of Europe, I would call this an off-dry rosé, not a rosé that's been fermented completely dry. Despite that, I enjoyed it. It has character--although my taste in rosé is for significantly drier wines. Retail price about $16.

(I have no financial connection with any producer or retailer of wine.)

Wines I'm Making: Hard Cider--Second Racking (February 25, 2013)

Yesterday, I racked the hard cider I'm making--the second racking ("racking" refers to taking the liquid off the lees and transferring it to a new container, part of the process of using gravity to clear it of sediment). I siphoned the liquid off the rather fluffy deposit at the bottom of the container and into a new, clean container. The first time I racked the cider I had to top up the vessel with nearly a pint of new liquid. I used fresh apple juice, which added sugar back that subsequently began to ferment again. That activity had mostly stopped.

This time, I filled the gap at the top of the container with finished local cider (only a small amount was required). I suspect I will have to rack my cider once more to get it completely clear, but it's mostly there. As the days have been a little warmer recently, I'll be watching for signs of ongoing fermentation, but I think it's mostly finished. After the final racking, I will bottle the cider and dose it with a touch of sugar to induce a final fermentation in the bottle, which should give it a little effervescence. I've never tried in-bottle fermentation before and never closed bottles with crown caps, but I will rely on the good guidance of the people at our local wine, beer, mead, cider, and cheese-making supply store, The Beverage People. Having just harvested about 60 pounds of honey from our (sadly dead) beehive, I may try making mead next.

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Pluot "Dapple Dandy" (February 23, 2013)

The first blossoms on the pluot called "Dapple Dandy" opened a couple days ago, on February 23. With no rain in the forecast, I'm hoping the tree will set some fruit this year. In recent years it has had almost none--but it  has mostly rained during flowering. The beehive has died, unfortunately, so the usual pollinators won't be around, but I'm hoping for the best. This post is, in fact, late because for the past few days I've been struggling to get the honey harvested from the hive; without the bees to attend it, it can't be left to sit (details of the honey harvest to follow).

Also, the first of the Tulipa bakeri tulips in the garden opened today (February 25). These have gradually dwindled in number and the number of blossoms on each plant has lessened as well. Probably time to plant new ones, or to fertilize the ones in the ground.

Plants I'm Growing: First Bloom--Pink Flowering Plum (February 15, 2013)

I belatedly note here that the pink flowering plum behind the house (Prunus blireiana) started blooming this year on February 15, which is within the range of its first blooming in the past. The tree bloomed on February 15 also in 2009, on February 4 in 2011, and on February 2 in 2012. I don't have a record for 2010, but it looks like the tree blooms early in February one year, the middle of the year the next. I expect it will bloom around February 3 in 2014. We'll see. The flowers are few again this year, as the sparrows and finches in the garden have eaten most of the buds. 

Wines I'm Making: Cider Racked (February 19, 2013)

My first attempt at making hard cider is coming along nicely. The fermentation had mostly stooped (after 20 days), so I racked the cider off its lees today. There was quite a lot of sediment in the bottom of the container, so I had to top it up after the racking. I used apple juice, fully expecting the new sugar to revive the fermentation a little, but so far there has been no reaction. It may just take time. We'll see what's going on tomorrow. In the photo, taken while siphoning the cider into a clean container, you can see the deep layer of sediment.

Plants I'm Growing: First blooms--Yellow Daffodils (February 18, 2013)

The first of the large yellow daffodils in the garden opened today.    This is somewhat late. In the past these have first opened as early as February 2 (2009) and no later than February 13 (2012) with dates of February 5 and February 2 in 2010 and 2011.

Found Art: Two Arrows (February 12, 2013)

Roadway arrows fascinate me. I don't know why. These two must have seemed confident and assertive when new. Now they are old and worn away, one overlaid with the other, this second one a newer, younger arrow that itself has faded. Looked like art to me.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Art I'm Looking at: The Collages of Yuko Kimura

At this year's San Francisco Fine Print Fair (January 18-20, 2013) I came across the work of a young Japanese woman, Yuko Kimura, that impressed me greatly. It would be fair to say that, for me, seeing her work was the highlight of the show.

Ms. Kimura, born in Oakland but raised in Tokyo, now lives and works in Cleveland. She was at the venue, having come with the Verne Gallery, a Cleveland gallery specializing in Japanese prints and paintings that represents her.

She showed recent and older work from a number of different series. Despite this being a print fair, all of her work is collage, although she often overprints collage elements with ink, using various techniques, including etching, aquatint, and lithography. I was particularly taken by her "Journey through Mushikui" series. Mushikui means "worm hole" in Japanese. These small works are collages using sheets from old Japanese books riddled with worm holes. Pictured above is Journey through Mushikui Red No. 3, with the book pages overprinted in a rusty orange-red. I liked these collages for their juxtaposition of simple, straight-edged, geometrical forms (mostly the areas of printed color or negative space created by the printed areas) with the decidedly sinuous, contrastingly non-geometric text and line illustrations on the book pages, joined by the organic, random meanderings of the worm holes. A lot of the other work she showed is done using scraps of indigo-dyed cloth or paper or with areas printed in the color of indigo, evocative of worn, patched traditional Japanese rural garb. Ms. Kimura has a wonderful sense of composition and of color. I look forward to seeing what she comes up with next.

Books I'm Reading: The Journals of Lewis and Clark

It must have been in 2004, on a trip to Oregon, that I bought my little edition of The Journals of Lewis and Clark. The Lewis and Clark group--the Corps of Discovery, as it was known--left St. Louis for the Pacific Ocean in 1804, and the book I purchased (on the road, at a gas station kiosk, if I remember correctly) is the Signet Classics 200th Anniversary Edition.

It had been sitting on my shelf since that trip. Last week, having finished Winston Churchill's six-volume history of WWII (more than 3,600 pages, not including many hundreds more in the form of appendices) I was looking for something shorter and for something different--and the journals are quite different from Churchill's detailing of the great military conflict of the 20th century, not least because the Journals involve very little killing--except of deer, elk, buffalo, beavers, and dogs, the animals that satisfied the hunger of the 30 or so men that made the long trip across the Western United States. Beaver tail, apparently, is rich in fat and tasty. Some men enjoy the taste of dog, it seems, while others find it vile. A number of weak horses were consumed along the way as well. Berries and roots were an occasional (and not very popular) respite from the meat. The group ate less fish than you might expect from the fact of their journey having mostly followed great river courses.

The expedition left in May 1804 and arrived back in St. Louis more than two years later, in September 1806. One woman was in the group, the famous Sacagawea, a Shoshone woman married to one Toussaint Charbonneau, a French Canadian (in today's terms) trader, from Quebec. Although she is often described as a guide, the journals make clear (and editor John Bakeless points out in a number of places) that she acted mainly as an interpreter for the group, not as a guide; most of the journey was through territory she'd never seen before. She was of critical importance, however, in negotiations for the horses required for the crossing of the Rocky Mountains. Between St. Louis and the mountains and from the lands west of the mountains to the Pacific, most of the trip was made by boat--canoes and pirogues (although sandbars, beaver dams, and rocky rapids often required the men to carry the boats and their supplies), but horses were essential to cross the mountain range.

While the journal entries in this shortened version don't go into a lot of detail, they paint an overall picture of what it was like to travel for months on end, dependent on the land for food and always at risk of a misunderstanding with local Indians that might result in bloodshed. Remarkably, the party was involved in only one such incident in the two years of travel. Encounters with different tribes illuminate the character of each of them, and they appear to have been very different, ranging from the rather quiet and cooperative Mandans interested in trade with white men and the Pacific Coastal tribes that already in 1804 were long used to dealing with white men to one or two tribes with a propensity to larceny and to the proud and belligerent Sioux. In reading about President Jackson's dealings with native Americans I know that white men were in the habit of calling the president The Great Father and of trying to impress upon tribes the need to stay on good terms with the government of the United States, and, for reasons I don't quite understand, many tribes seem to have accepted that extremely condescending attitude. By the time of Jackson's presidency (1829-1837), I suppose it was apparent that the white man was a powerful force and such an attitude makes at least a modicum of sense. I was surprised, however, to read in the journals that already on the Lewis and Clark expedition interactions were often couched in such terms.

The vast distances covered, the open plains, the great herds of elk and buffalo, the rivers that were the highway Lewis and Clark followed across land now occupied by ten states are all impressively drawn.

A good read. Recommended. The Journals themselves, that is. I found this particular edition rather frustrating, however. It's very small, which makes the few map reproductions of little use. I would have liked larger, modern maps in addition to reproductions of the ones created by the explorers themselves, and a great deal more annotation, particularly notes relating places referred to in the Journals to their modern names (often Lewis and Clark use names they make up as they go along or names traders used or they use local tribal names), and a lack of an index seems a fairly major fault. If I had known, I would have looked for a fully annotated edition, which surely exists. This heavily abridged form (382 pages), however, has the advantage of relative brevity, and allows the reader to get a very good taste of the expedition without wading through the full text of the writings of its two leaders.

Food I'm Eating: Olives (2013)

I picked olives from our tree the day before yesterday, hoping to repeat the success I had two years ago making olives for the first time. Last year most olives trees in the area produced virtually no fruit. Olives seem to alternate heavy crops and it rained heavily during flowering last year as well. Picking now was a bit late. The fruit appears more than optimally ripe (a lot has fallen and what was left on the tree was beginning to shrivel a little). On the upside, the olives are somewhat bigger than two years ago, when I picked in mid-January. My neighbor's tree is a much better variety, with bigger, meatier fruits. They allowed me to take what was left on their tree as well.

So, I have about eight quarts or so of two varieties (both unknown) now soaking in brine, using the same solution I used two years ago (a quarter cup of kosher salt to one quart of water). I slit the olives with a knife before brining them, as the recipes instruct. The break in the skin allows the salt to soak in and the bitter components in the olives to leach out. We'll see how it goes.... Meanwhile, my hard cider is still bubbling away on day 11 of fermentation. Testing the liquid, it tastes of alcohol, but is still slightly sweet. I'm guessing it will take another five to six days or so for the fermentation to go to completion. Then I'll need to rack the cider a couple of times to clear it of solids and then bottle it, dosing it with a touch of sugar before putting the caps on, which will cause a secondary fermentation in the bottle, adding that touch of carbonation that makes a good cider refreshing--that's the theory anyway. Cider is a new realm of exploration for me.

Rain: Belatedly

It rained last week, on Thursday (February 7). We got an additional 0.25 inches of rain. That brings our total to 22.45 inches for the 2012-2013 rain year. The historical average for today (February 10) in Santa Rosa is 23.11 inches. So, we are now slightly below normal for the year, having been about 10 inches ahead earlier in the season.

[Update: A heavy downpour on the morning of the 15th added 0.45 inches of new rain, bringing the total for this season to 22.90 inches.]

Music I'm Listening to: Charles Dutoit Conducts the San Francisco Symphony, with James Ehnes

On Thursday, January 31, I attended my second San Francisco Symphony concert at the new Green Music Center. Charles Dutoit was the guest conductor. On the program were Ravel's Rhapsodie Espagnole, Lalo's Symphony Espangole, and Elgar's Enigma Variations.

Dutoit never really disappoints. The entire concert was clean and enjoyable and enhanced by the beautiful clarity of sound in the new hall (apparent particularly in a passage in the Enigma Variations that involves extended low notes in the violas; and it's worth mentioning that the solo work by the principal viola elsewhere in the variations was notably fine).

James Ehnes was soloist in the Lalo. He gave a precise, energetic performance that was hard to fault except that it came across as rather too tame. The Symphony Espagnole, it seems to me, requires a bit of fire to be really successful, and that was lacking. The violin Ehnes plays (according to the program notes) is the 1715 "Ex-Marsick" Stradivarius, lent by the Fulton Collection. It's a rather delicate, sweet-sounding instrument with little throatiness in the low range, and I suspect that added to the impression. It's always a pleasure to hear the fine musicians of the San Francisco symphony, but, on the whole, this concert lacked excitement.

Photos of Charles Dutoit and James Ehnes courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony.

Wines I'm Making: Hard Cider (January 31, 2013)

At Whole Foods (the Coddington Mall store) yesterday I noticed a growing section devoted to brewing supplies. I was intrigued by a vial of "English cider yeast" I found there. I made the assumption that it was a strain of yeast particularly suited to making hard cider. On the spur of the moment I bought the yeast and three gallons of pasteurized (but preservative-free) apple juice thinking I'd try to make my own cider. I have no idea if it will be any good or not, but, being used to fermenting grape juice to make wine, and having all the equipment already at hand, I thought I'd give it a try. I inoculated the juice last night (on the 30th) and a frothy fermentation is already under way. Stay tuned....

Books I'm Reading: Drink: A Social History of America (January 30, 2013)

While this is somewhat out of date now, having been published in 1999 (Carroll & Graf), it remains an interesting discussion of how the role of drinking--specifically the drinking of alcoholic beverages--has evolved in the United States during the past 200 years or so. Barr makes it plain that--as in so many things--the US is rather out of synch with many of its counterparts among the developed countries of Europe. Our attitude toward drink has been rather unusual from the outset--the result of peculiar circumstances and later the effects of prohibition. First, because of the difficulty of obtaining fresh, wholesome beers and light wines (as opposed to fortified wines) in early colonial times and the difficulty of storing these perishable items in a comparatively hot climate), American colonists early became dependent on rum and madeira, the former because it didn't spoil and was cheap and easy to make, the latter because it survived (and even improved) on long ocean journeys.

The heat of the southern colonies and the long distances between settlements in colonial times contributed to a reliance on rum and madeira rather than on the beers and ales favored in Britain or the unfortified wines common on the continent, both of which perished quickly without refrigeration. It was no help that despite the abundance of wild grapes in the United States (none of which made good wine), European grape varieties stubbornly refused to take hold in the New World, repeatedly falling victim to the vine diseases that attacked the native varieties (which have developed immunities European grape varieties lack).

As a result, Americans on the whole never developed a solid tradition of drinking light alcoholic beverages (beers and wines) with food, as an ordinary part of a leisurely meal. That tendency, exacerbated by prohibition (and the partial prohibition of alcohol to teens and into the early 20s that continues today) has left most Americans with a binge drinking mentality focused mostly on hard liquors that, ironically, was precisely what the original prohibitionists aimed to combat. I've long thought that college binge drinking and other abuses would be far less prevalent if we taught our children about responsible, pleasurable, moderate alcohol consumption from the early teen years. Barr makes this same argument cogently and with much evidence to back up his claims. Chock full of interesting detail about drink and our attitudes toward alcohol. Well worth a read. Recommended.  

Food I'm Eating: What Was that Cheese?

No pun intended, but I'm feeling a little sheepish. I've teased many friends and acquaintances over the years when they come to me asking about wine, which, knowing my interest in wine, they fairly often do. I tease them during conversations that typically go like this:

Friend: "I had this wonderful wine the other day..."
Me: "What was it?"
Friend: "I don't know, but it was REALLY good."
Me: "Where was it from?"
Friend: "I forgot."
Me: "Why didn't you look at the label and write down what it was, so you'd remember, or keep the label, or take a photo of it?"
Friend: "Well, you know, we were all having a good time and talking, and by the time we'd paid the bill, the waiter had already taken the bottle away." or "Yeah, I didn't think to do that. That was last week. I think the trash has already been collected...."

I never have this problem with wine. First, I know an awful lot more about wine than I do about cheese. There aren't that many wines I've never heard of or for which I have no points of reference. Second, I'm not shy about securing evidence when necessary. I never hesitate to take the empty bottle home from a restaurant or to set it aside at home or to remove the label from the bottle, for future reference. If an unfamiliar wine is different and compelling, I usually write something about it--on this blog, in many cases--which preserves the information. When it comes to cheese, however, I'm much less careful, too often to my later regret. I've encountered countless delicious cheeses that are lost to me forever for want of information about what I was eating. Recently, I've tried to do better. Sometimes, however, the cards just seem stacked against me.

A few days ago I sampled a number of tasty-looking cheeses at the cheese counter of The Pasta Shop at the Rockridge Market Hall, in Berkeley (510) 250-6005, and bought a few that I liked. The problem with cheese is that the label on the cut pieces you buy at a good cheese shop are almost invariably slapped on to the package at the folds, to hold the wrapping closed. As a result, the label usually has to be ripped to pieces to open the cheese. In this instance, I particularly enjoyed a smoky, pungent blue cheese I bought, that, judging from its color, is a goat cheese. Thinking myself very smart this time, I retrieved the paper it had been wrapped in as soon as it dawned on me that I especially liked this one. I was determined to remember the name of the cheese, but I picked the paper out of the trash only to find that the tasty little brick had been labeled "Cheese!"

Not very helpful, to say the least. With an exclamation point, no less. I was being mocked.

I want to believe this was just a freak error on the part of the helpful young woman that wrapped the cheese for me, but I'm feeling vaguely persecuted. The other two cheeses (a Cabot "Cheddar" from Vermont and a French cheese called Brebirousse d'Argental) were properly labeled. I grant you that. Still, I feel laughed at....

Rain: 0.55 inches (January 22-24, 2013)

Showers in the past couple of days have added 0.55 inches to our total for the 2012-2013 rain year. We now stand at 22.20 inches. The historical average for this day in Santa Rosa is 19.86 inches, which puts us more than two inches ahead of normal at the moment. Average annual rainfall in Santa Rosa is about 36.3 inches.

Plants I'm Growing: Pink Flowering Plum--Prunus Mume (January 24, 2013)

I belatedly note that the pink flowering plum at the front of the house started blooming on January 20. This little tree has been suffering from an infestation of scale, so it produced very few buds, but the buds that are there have mostly opened. The white plum (same species, Prunus mume) is now pretty much in full bloom.

Books I'm Reading: Triumph and Tragedy (January 17, 2013)

At nearly 600 pages, Triumph and Tragedy, the sixth and last volume in Winston Churchill's history of WWII, is one of the shorter volumes. It moves at a much faster pace than any of the earlier ones, with more about politics than military operations, but it's no less interesting for that.

Triumph and Tragedy is in two sections, the first, beginning with the D-Day invasion, takes us through the end of the fighting in Europe and then the final stages of the war in the Pacific. The second treats the aftermath of the armed world conflict, particularly dealing with Stalin and the question of how to balance Soviet claims to Polish territory with Polish claims to German territory. In other words, Churchill describes the triumph of the victories over Germany and Japan and the tragedy of how the aftermath of the global conflict played out. He makes it clear that he feels the partitioning of Germany into zones of influence administered by Germany, France, the US, and the Soviet Union could have been handled far better than it was. The second half of the book is largely a chronicle of Churchill's frustration. Throughout the six volumes, but particularly in this one, the clarity of his vision regarding the Soviets is remarkable. He saw the falling of the iron curtain long before it happened, and it happened much the way he warned it would.

Birds I'm Watching: The Common and the Not-so-common (January 10, 2012)

Last month was the busiest December I've had work-wise in my 12 years here as a freelance translator. Usually, December is quiet. As a result, I've had little time for chasing birds recently, but a quick trip to San Rafael on Tuesday (January 8) on a tip about a Long-eared Owl (Asio otus) was worth the dash. What a magnificent bird. They are rare here. Not more than one or two show up each year in the area--if that. So, I was pleased to be able to add this fellow to my life list.

I also got some interesting photographs of the many Yellow-rumped Warblers that were flitting about. These are our single most common warbler. They are abundant in the winter months. Some birds are not well named. Others, like the Yellow-rumped Warbler, are rather aptly named, as the photo below should demonstrate.

For information about bird watching in Sonoma County, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots.

Found Art: Malevich's Circle (January 8, 2012)

If Malevich had used a circle instead of a square, "White on White" might have looked something like this. But no--too much adornment here. Not simple enough. Not pure enough. Still, this San Francisco street detail looked like art to me.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Wines I'm Making: 2011 Cabernet Bottled (January 4, 2013)

Finally got around to bottling the 2011 Cabernet Sauvignon/Cabernet Franc. It was a small batch last year. We produced only 33 bottles of wine, but it's quality that counts. I had a tough time of it this time around. First, I used a slightly larger diameter tube for siphoning the wine and a shorter length--mostly because when replacing my siphon I couldn't remember what size I had used in the past. The large size made the wine flow much faster than I'm used to and the shorter length combined with cold weather made the tube stiff and unwieldy. The result was much more spillage than usual. I estimate I lost more than a bottle. In a commercial winery that might be a miraculously small amount of spillage. Here, making wine from the grapes we grow in the back garden, it's 3% of annual output. Second, the crushed Campden tablets failed to fully dissolve. It really is important to see to it that the sulfite is evenly distributed throughout the wine. Finding much left at the bottom of the carboy, I had to laboriously siphon thirty bottles back into the container and then rebottle them. I didn't want some of the bottles to be unprotected and others to have much too much sulfite. Two lessons learned the hard way. Anyway, the wine is now in bottles awaiting capsules and labels (which I have yet to design and print). Judging from what I consumed while siphoning, the 2011 wine will be good, but it is more tannic than usual and has a bit more acidity, suggesting that it will take time to open up. I estimate it will start showing well around 2018.

I also did the first racking of the 2012 wine. Working on the assumption that enough time had passed to allow malolactic fermentation to go to completion, I sulfited the wine lightly and transferred it to clean containers, leaving behind the gross lees. I added oak staves, as usual. The wine (8 gallons, or 40 bottles) is now resting.

Rain: Additional 0.4 inches (January 6, 2013)

Since last reporting, we've had another 0.4 inches of rain, bringing our total for the 2012/2013 rainy season to 21.65 inches (at least at my house). As 15.4 inches is average for this calendar date, were are about six inches above normal so far.

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Daphne Odorata (January 2, 2013)

Swamped with work, I've been stuck at my desk for the past few days, but I belatedly report that the Daphne in the back garden started blooming on January 2 this year. Daphne odorata, as its Latin name suggests, is wonderfully fragrant and one of the few flowers that blooms in the middle of the winter. So, its appearance is always welcome.

Miscellaneous: Odd Connections (January 2, 2013)

This blog has been running for several years now. I write as the mood strikes me. I write mostly to record impressions or store information and ideas that might otherwise be lost. The writing therefore covers disparate topics. I range widely.

About three years ago now, I wrote a short entry about a couple of interesting Victorian houses in San Francisco (the original post is here), a pair of houses at the corner of Filbert St. and Webster St. in that city. I have tracking software on the blog that shows me where visitors come from (in the most general terms--usually indicating only country and city). Occasionally an old post will suddenly get a flurry of hits. Sometimes the reason is clear. This has happened most often when a halo around the moon is visible somewhere and a post I wrote on the subject of that phenomenon suddenly gets many hits all at once. Sometimes the reason is more mysterious. Today my post about the houses in San Francisco is getting dozens of hits, mostly from the US and Canada, but from as far away as England, India, and Vietnam. I wonder what has prompted the sudden interest in the subject?