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Published: April 10th 2015
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Yesterday's entry, after lunch, et al, was devoid of photos. On the oft chance that you found this to be a problem, this morning's entry will contain photos from yesterday and today. There are pictures of us and pictures of us and more pictures of us. I hope you don't find this aspect of the blog too off-putting. I worry that it might be like when I was a kid and we had to go to my grandmother's house to see slides of her trip to the "Orient". I remember those times well because I didn't like them at all. Fran never had to do this as a kid and even if would have had to she'd remember it fondly. She seems to only remember the good things about her youth. Truly we are of different brains. Anyway, I'm not too worried. I had to watch the slide show. You have a choice.
Last night we took a walk before dinner. There are dirt paths all through the property. There are rabbits in the area so there are hawks and eagles. We saw some of them earlier. But on this walk we were confronted with another animal that inhabits places
with lots of rabbits. She, and we knew she was a she because she got close enough for us to tell, was curious about us, maybe a little too tame for her own good I thought. Fran talked dog talk to her as if a fox would understand dog language. How silly! Plus, this was a Chilean fox and even if she understood dog talk she couldn't possibly understand English dog talk. Still, fox (foxes?) are pretty clever and she seemed to understand that these were a couple of American tourists angling for a tourist photo and being that she had a good disposition, she obliged.
Dinner was at 8. There were only four of us at dinner. Another couple came in, American, and when I heard him talk I told Fran he was from Cleveland. Now my cousins in Cleveland all tell me that Clevelanders don't have any accent. Right. So my skeptical wife introduced herself, us actually, to this couple and asked where they were from. Cleveland Ohio. Yes, nailed it and it was easy. So Richard Horvitz if you read this blog entry, I'm thinking of you. Also the guy's a lawyer and our family name
was more than a little familiar to him. His son went to Kenyon and lots of other interesting coincidences that happen every time we travel.
This morning we woke to a thick haze of smoke. Apparently, that's normal for this time of year because as fall approaches, the wind dies down, the cold air comes in and the air inverts in these these valleys and hillsides and all the industrial pollution, smog and smoke descends. By 10 AM it had dissipated sufficiently for us to take a bike ride through the vineyards. The ride was gentle and interesting. We stopped to watch crews from the vineyard picking grapes. This particular field was the last field of Merlot unpicked. There still are some Cabernet Sauvignon grapes left and a lot of Carminere. As we rode through the vineyards we couldn't tell the differences among the varietals of grapes. They were all smaller and darker than table grapes. They are a deep blue color, almost black. All the pickers are women and all the managers are men. Why? Can't answer about the manager part but I'm sure it's cultural. On the picker part, their narrative is that women are shorter and
it's easier for them. Most of the grapes are at about 2 - 3 feet off the ground. Seems logical. Another part of the narrative is that women can both talk and work at the same time and so picking grapes is a good occupation for them as the work next to one another along the rows. As far as the good occupation part goes, they are paid by the kilo, approximately 50 cents per kilo. It takes a lot of grapes for them to make a living. Hey, don't shoot the messenger here.
Heading to Santiago later today. Have a good Friday.
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