Grapes of Wrath

A great childhood memory is walking to a little bungalow close to my elementary school to purchase grapes--a nickel a sack. A variety of Concord, I believe, they were a taste explosion at the end of every summer. Yes, so full of seeds that you virtually had to chew and spit with each grape, but the flavor was incredible. I remember the mess in the kitchen when my mom made grape juice or jelly, mashing the grapes through a colander to remove the seeds and skins. Purple, purple everywhere.

When we first purchased the house over 20 years ago, a neighbor gave me a start of the very same variety. Though we have gone through several deck reconstructions, I have kept that little vine; which now climbs up over the pergola extending it's tendrils over 5o feet. In the summer it provides deep shade from the hot sun over the deck, a wonderfully cool, relaxing place with a great view of the garden and fish pond. It's fun to watch as the vines bloom and grow into huge bunches of green grapes that hang gracefully down from the arbor.

Then they ripen. The smell is wonderful, like having your own personal winery. The mess-- not so cool. Opossums love them. They crawl through the grapes overhead each night and every morning I awaken to a carpet of grapes on the deck. Purple, purple everywhere.
Still, I wouldn't give them up. What a perfect place to enjoy the cooler weather. A glass (or three) of wine, some cheese, crusty bread and good friends. A stunning setting for a Sunday brunch before the game. And memories, lots and lots of good memories.