'Pictures say a thousand words,' or so the saying goes. Sicilian pictures probably say three thousand words. And do a lot of hand gesturing, too.
A close up of our Chardonnay grapes growing in the vineyard.
Our trusty (and rusty) portable burn barrel. We use it to burn the vines after they're pruned, among other things.
A view of the upper vineyard from Grandma Millie's porch.
The front of our winery building.
A handpainted sign for our Antipasteria. And yes, Grandma Millie's red peppers are every bit as good as you'd imagine.
Our antipasto platter featuring three different types of cheeses, dried apricots, dates, olives, crackers, toasted pecans, and Grandma Millie's hand-roasted red peppers.
A lovely couple having a toast in our Antipasteria.
Grandma Millie's homemade turkey rice soup, a wintertime treat.
Grandma Millie and Dominic our vintner, with the first prize he earned for his wine.
Grandma Millie beside the first vine ever planted in the vineyard.
Grandma Millie and her late husband, Jimmy.
The original old farm house that was on the property when it was purchased over 70 years ago. Dominic's brother, Stephen, built his house where it once stood. The front door to both homes are in exactly the same place.
The winery building under construction in the early 90's. Our building was designed by Dominic our vintner, and inspired by the horse auction houses of old. We've been asked many times if it used to be a church.
Dominic and Paul, busy at work pruning the vines.
Our trusty burn barrel in action, turning our clippings to ash.
A tiny egg from one of our elderly chickens, next to a strawberry for comparison. They rarely make an egg, and when they do, the results can be comical. Grandma Millie had powerful objections over "anything changing about their lives just because they're old!", so we are essentially running a nursing home for chickens.
Flowers blooming in the vineyard. Dominic doesn't use weed-killer, preferring to weed by hand. Sometimes tedious, but it means we get to see the flowers bloom as well.