Constant Gardening
September 3rd 2008, by GQ
It’s the end of the holidays and the children are back at school. Or, to be more precise, schools, as they are at four different schools this year. Three are in the local town, Créon, while Sophie goes to Carignan a few miles away. Throughout the summer, we try to keep the grounds looking sharp, and the work continues well into the autumn, with no shortage of visitors around harvest time. Our small team are polyvalent, or multi-purpose, so Nellie is equally at home on the lawnmower as she is labelling bottles, packing cases, or racking red wine from one barrel to the next.
Tributes to Barton & Palmer meets Margaux
August 3rd 2008, by GQ
There’s no doubt that the article that generated the biggest response from our snailmail newsletter, La Gazette, was the short, sad piece about the cruel death of Barton, our little Black and Tan Meath Terrier. We’ve been very touched by the messages of support which have come from all directions and in all shapes and sizes, including a card from friends in New York with a picture of a dog floating up to the skies on a cloud, and this charming postcard from Barton’s sister Swilly, who lives with Lillian Barton of Chateaux Léoville Barton and Langoa Barton in St-Julien. Swilly signed the card with her paw print.
Au Revoir to our Accountant
August 2nd 2008, by GQ
Yesterday I had the pleasant task of having to fire our accountant, who we’ve been with since buying the vineyard in 1999. On the way to his new office just off the Bordeaux ringroad, or rocade, I thought about what I was going to say, remembering from previous situations that the opening line is quite important.
My favourite is ‘I don’t know how we’re going to manage without you, but we’re going to give it a try’, which is quite a satisfying line to deliver but it’s a bit glib and disrespectful to the listener. On a different tack a few years ago, when we had to part company with a vineyard worker called Jacques, I had to resort to the only other area of common ground between us, which was football. ’Jacky’, I said, ‘I’ve given you the yellow card, and now, with regret (a touch of Sir Alan there), I’m afraid it’s the carte rouge‘. I thought of that conversation when Jacky and I bumped into each other again in the local supermarket last week. We talked about vines, and football.
A Wet Week in Cornwall
July 14th 2008, by GQ
We must have picked about the worst week to go to Cornwall for a break, weather-wise. From the 4th to the 11th July, it rained and rained, and then rained some more. Each time we looked hopefully at the forecast, it seemed that the southwest was the blackest spot in England, with the occasional severe weather warning.
I didn’t get a chance to go and see Bob Lindo at his Camel Valley vineyard, but I can’t imagine he was too thrilled either. It felt more like March, with chilly walks and strong winds, and we didn’t manage to get the children to a sandy beach, not even once.