gova

(Continued from May 27, 2010)

Thea wanted to know details regarding sediment removal.  So, I explained to her that, around Christmas time, we would syphon the wine from the top and clean the barrels and the glass jug.

“I can already appreciate that ten-gallon barrels would be a lot more convenient than one twenty-five gallon monster,” Thea said.  “Ten gallons of wine can easily be stored temporarily in relatively small containers while we clean barrel number one.  What are the subsequent logistics?”

“At this point, I need to backtrack a bit because I neglected to discuss the ‘surplus’ juice, of which we may have as much as ten gallons.  To be prepared for that possibility, we should probably purchase two five-gallon glass jugs.”

“Why such a large amount of extra wine?” Thea inquired.

“First of all, keep in mind that 27 gallons was only an estimate; the true yield varies from year to year.  Furthermore, when the heavily fermenting wine is poured into the barrels, we won’t be able to fill them up to the top.  A considerable quantity would just spill over.  As the fermentation process becomes less violent, we will top up the barrels.”

“So, when ‘sediment removal’ time rolls around, five gallons or less may be available for topping up the barrels.  Is that correct?”

“If two weeks before Christmas there is none left in one-gallon jars and we would have to syphon off one of the five-gallon jugs, we will stop the topping up process.”

“What would be the logic of doing that?” My inquisitive daughter wanted to know.

“Five gallons of wine in one container will ferment much better than a one-gallon quantity.  As for the relatively small space on top of the barrels, it will be filled with gasses that are escaping from the wine below.  No air can enter because all containers will have fermentation locks on them.”

“Thanks for the in-depth background information.  Let’s go back now to ‘clean barrel number one.’  What will be our next move?”

“Let’s assume that we will actually have a five-gallon jug of ‘surplus’ wine, which would give us ten gallons altogether in glass containers.  Of course, the amount of clean juice would be less; a considerable layer of sediment would be clearly visible on the bottom of the jugs.  Anyway, we would syphon the pure liquid of one of the five-gallon jugs into the barrel.”

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 24, 2010)

“Making wine from grapes is not difficult; and, when the variety is Zinfandel, it is very easy,” I asserted.

“I know that grapes have yeast on their skins,” Thea said.  “Therefore, one doesn’t have to fiddle with measuring cups, as is the case with other fruits.  However, why is Zinfandel easier to handle than other varieties of grapes?”

“Zinfandel grapes have a high concentration of sugar, which will turn into alcohol during the fermentation process.   That high percentage of alcohol will prevent bad bacteria from affecting the flavor of the wine.  That is why my French friend mixed his backyard grapes with very sweet ones from North Africa.  He wanted to boost the alcohol content to avoid getting a wine that would become too vinegary.”

“We will have to get barrels and all sorts of equipment, I imagine.”

“We will need a grape crusher, a wine press, and an open-end barrel for the first stage of our operation.  Since we will have a relatively small amount of grapes, a manual crusher will do.  We can make use of Alphonse’s muscles for the crushing as well as for getting as much juice as possible out of the pulp.”

“Alice and Elsie will definitely want to participate.  So, we three girls won’t leave all the heavy work for Alphonse.”

“In the beginning, the manual wine press is fairly easy to operate.  At that time, you girls can take turns.  Later, when the heavy ratcheting needs to be done, Alphonse can apply his muscles.”

“What kind of equipment or devices do we need for the next stage?”

“If we have a sufficiently large quantity of juice, we can use a barrel.  Can you remember the number of kilos of Zinfandel that you harvested last fall?”

“We had about 400 pounds.  That would make how many kilos?  You are fond of the metric system, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my early European education is showing through again.  Anyway, to change pounds into kilos, we divide by 2.2.  That would roughly be about 180 kilos; and, according to my buddy in France, 17 kilos will get us about 10 liters of wine.  Therefore, 180 kilos would yield approximately 105 liters.  That is about 27 gallons, which will allow us to work with two ten-gallon barrels and a five-gallon glass jug.  When the time comes to remove the excessive sediment, one twenty-five gallon barrel would be much too cumbersome.”

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 21, 2010)

In response to my hyperbole about her great quantity of fruit trees, Thea exclaimed with a laugh: “Very interesting exaggeration!”  Then, pensively: “However, I may have the largest orchard in the county.”

“I imagine that pruning all those trees is an enormous task.”

“It is also very costly.  Two professionals spent a couple of months in the orchard this year.  There was a bit more work because the former owners did not get the pruning job done the previous year.”

“Is there a way of neutralizing that extra expense?”

“Aunt Dorothy’s accountant has suggested that I sell a portion of the fruit crop.  He had already contacted a reliable retailer.  Although I dislike diminishing the amount of fruit available for my charity, I will follow his advice.  Because of the economic downturn, the return on my investments has been reduced and I don’t want to incur a loss.”

“That accountant is an extremely valuable person for your organization.”

“He does my books and, day or night, he is available for any advice I may need.  And, he does it all for free.  He says that it is his way of contributing to charity.  He likes the idea of being able to witness charitable action in progress.”

We had entered the greenhouse and, within seconds, the earthy smell had a favorable effect on me.  It made me recall that, as a youth, I had spent many pleasant hours working in the flower business.  My employer was a nice gentleman who paid me reasonably good wages and the green house was nice and warm in the wintertime.

Grape vines occupied the entire left side of Thea’s greenhouse.  She explained to me that most of them were table grapes, but about a quarter of them were Zinfandel and therefore more suitable for making wine.  She said to me, in jest: “You are probably an expert wine maker.”

It so happened that I had experience in wine making.  A friend of mine in France made his own wine every autumn.  He had a number of vines in his backyard and he combined the yield from those with grapes from North Africa.  I participated in the wine making for three consecutive years.  So, I told my daughter: “I would not consider myself an expert, but I am familiar with all the details pertaining to turning your Zinfandel grapes into tasty wine.”

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 18, 2010)

Both the soup and the rest of our lunch were exceptionally flavorful. The use of salt had been minimized and a great variety of herbs had been added.  It was the kind of cooking that I had learned to love during my stay in France.  Thanks to some good friends, I had quickly discovered restaurants where salt was sparingly used.

I told Thea about the wonderful tastiness of the food that we had just consumed.  “Your cook knows a lot about the use of herbs,” I said.  “She has probably done a great deal of experimenting to determine which ones go together and the quantity of each herb that one should use.  Therefore, in my opinion, don’t change anything; don’t try to improve on perfection.”

We decided that we would have some ice cream “in a little while,” after doing a search for the inscription on the beam.  We procured a stepladder and the flashlight from the Audi and set to inspecting the massive timber.

To the left of the entrance door was a column that supported one end of the beam.  We chose to commence our search in that area.  Thea focused the shaft of light on the timber while I ascended the stepladder.  There was nothing on one side and the numbers on the other side were measurements.  So, we went to the far end of the beam.

When Thea shone the ray of light on the wood, even before I had ascended the ladder, I could see numbers and words.  I rose to within forty centimeters and read the inscription to Thea:  “From Ed Brown’s mill, March 1934.”

Satisfied about our accomplished mission, we were in a mood to enjoy our ice cream.  That day, the machine contained strawberry and vanilla, which allowed us to decide on a bi-flavored swirl.

At the big window, while we enjoyed our dessert, I told Thea about my curiosity regarding the width of the lengthy orchard.  “As soon as we have finished our sweet treat, we will take a walk along its front.  On a day when it is not raining, we will go and have a look at the great variety of fruit trees, which, I was told, are prospering because of the hilly terrain.  Apparently, they like well-drained soil.”

We paced the frontage of the orchard under an enormous umbrella.  There was no wind; so, the heavy drizzle came straight down on our slightly tilted canopy. The drip behind us fell well wide of our summer sneakers.

“The width of the orchard is about one hundred twenty meters,” I said to my daughter as we walked toward the shelter of the greenhouse.  “I would guess that more than half of the fruit trees in the entire county are on your farm.”

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 15, 2010)

During the early years of operation, the former owners of the farm had about a dozen dairy cows and most of the milk was used for the production of butter and cheese.  Therefore, they needed a very large kitchen.  That spaciousness turned out to be extremely beneficial for Thea’s purposes.  It made Aunt’s Dorothy’s accountant remark enthusiastically: “Many medium-sized restaurants would love to have that kind of room.”

The adjacent dining area rendered the vastness of the room even more impressive.  The end of a lengthy table had been placed against the sill of an enormous window.  There was a bench on either side from which one could enjoy the view of the undulating terrain.

“Twelve adults can sit here without feeling cramped,” Thea said.  “And, since it is all open space, an eye can be kept on the cooking in progress.  Also, the large surface of this table allows the volunteers to do the packaging while they are enjoying a snack or an ice-cream dessert.  Take note of the soft ice-cream machine beside the fridge.”

Thea walked to the cooking area to get our soup.  She realized that the cook was fully occupied with a number of dishes that she was preparing.  While I was alone at the table, I observed the ceiling beam that extended across the entire width of the room.  I imagined that it had been cut out of a fair-sized Douglas fir.  In the center was a supporting post.  Hooks, which served as coat hangers, had been screwed into it.  They had obviously been chosen to blend in with the natural color of the wood.

“I can see that you are admiring our rustic beam,” Thea said as she placed the soup bowls on the table.  “All men seem to be fascinated with its size.  It was a frequent conversation piece for the renovators.”

“Many decades ago, the main carpenter in charge of constructing a farmhouse would go to a local sawmill and choose the tree from which an important beam like this would be cut.  Often, there is an inscription somewhere in the corner of the beam; it gives the name of the mill and the year it was produced.”

“That is mighty fascinating,” Thea, exclaimed enthusiastically.  “After lunch, we can take a few minutes to inspect the beam.  I have a good flashlight in the Audi.”

During lunch, we admired the view from the window.  Right in front of it, a cultivated field stretched for at least half a kilometer down a gentle slope.  At the end of it was a stand of tall evergreens.  To the left of the field was a lengthy greenhouse, which was much bigger than what Thea’s casual indications had made me envision.  And, on the right was an orchard, which also appeared to extend as far as the lofty evergreens.  I was curious about its width.

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 12, 2010)

During the half-hour ride to the farm, Thea explained about the distribution of produce and fruit.  Rather than establishing a sort of food bank system, where one can pretend to be a needy person, my daughter and her late father had created a referral system.  People would point out genuinely needy families, often mentioning specific details and circumstances.

“Such clearly defined information would probably make an investigation unnecessary,” I remarked.

“That is correct.  We commence deliveries and our volunteers will, in a short period of time, learn a lot about the families.”

“The fact that you specify ‘needy families’ makes me think that your emphasis is on improving circumstances for children.  When there is a shortage of money, the meals are often not nutritious enough for the normal development of young bodies.”

“That is a very astute observation,” Thea said with a big smile.  “Our organic vegetables and fruits will supply all the necessary vitamins for kids.  In some instances, our volunteers will actually prepare the meals in the home.”

“I assume that you are referring to situations, where parents, because of illness or accidents, cannot perform household chores.”

“That is right.  Those situations occur and they present our volunteers with the opportunity to interact with kids.  For instance, they will teach youngsters how to prepare simple meals while observing all the safety rules.”

Related to the in-home preparation of meals, there was one more feature about which Thea was very enthusiastic.  Fairly recently, since she had become owner of the farm, my daughter had renovated the kitchen of the farmhouse.  The new equipment and appliances allowed the staff to prepare meals on the premises.  Those could then be delivered to persons who were incapable of doing their own cooking.

“We have developed a recipe for a tremendously tasty vegetable soup in which we use very little salt and a great variety of herbs.  Apparently, kids love our soup.  Incidentally, when I was in the main house with aunt, I phoned the main cook in the farmhouse.  I advised her that you and I would be having lunch there.  Since you are a great connoisseur of foods, I would like your opinion on the quality of our dishes.”

I told Thea that I would take my job as official taster very seriously.  If I would feel that there was a need for it, I would suggest improvements.

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 09, 2010)

“You two men can attend to getting Sam safe and sound into his shed while Thea and I go and look at some clothes that I bought recently.  Here are the key and the code number for the shed’s doors.  We will meet you in the boardroom in about fifteen minutes unless you will need more time.”

“Fifteen minutes will be plenty of time,” Alphonse replied while he directed Sam to pick up the piece of sawed-off tail pipe and to deposit it into the rear of the Mini.  Back to full size, the robot raised the vehicle’s backend again, allowing us to retrieve the wooden blocks.

Next, it was back to his shed at full speed for the robot.  Alphonse used the goggles to manipulate Sam directly into the middle of his circle.  After we had locked the doors, my young friend checked his watch.  Eight minutes had passed since the ladies had left for the main house.

“You really gave that robot a good workout,” I remarked as we strolled toward the boardroom.

“As you are well aware, I like to test the limits of machines and equipment.  When the need arises to make them function at full capacity, one should be informed about those limits.”

When we reached the steps that led to the boardroom’s entrance, we could see the ladies exiting from the main residence’s front door.  We waited for them outside, as Thea and I would be departing soon.

Aunt Dorothy and Alphonse accompanied us to the Audi; and, after a few minutes of small talk, my daughter and I departed.  My young friend jogged to the gate. While he opened it, he shouted: “Have a good time at the farm.  I am looking forward to paying you a visit there soon.”

Shortly after her dad had passed away, Thea had been presented with the opportunity to purchase a very interesting organic farm at an extremely reasonable price.  Because of their advanced age, the owners deemed themselves no longer capable of operating the enterprise; and, since Tea and her father, for years, had purchased the bulk of the produce and fruit for charitable purposes, she was given first refusal.  Aunt Dorothy’s accountant advised her to take advantage of the opportunity.  So, Thea became the owner of a farm.

My daughter was eager to involve me in her world; and, because the farm was a very big part of that, we had decided to venture out into the countryside that very day.

(To be continued)

Thea’s organic farm for charity purposes

At that point in time, Alphonse realized that his spectators might be somewhat puzzled about the project in progress; so, he explained: “According to the manual, the blade that is presently in the cordless will easily cut through steel piping.  Well, my exhaust pipe is rusted through and held up with wire.  Using the goggles, I will be able to do a precision job in cutting it exactly in the right spot.”

Without further ado, Alphonse shrank the robot to its lowest position and made him move under the Mini.  My young friend then stretched out on the tarpaulin; and, with the use of the goggles, was obviously able to find, with ease, the most appropriate place for the severing process.  For, within seconds, we heard a few strokes of the blade and the “clang” as the metal hit the pavement.

Ominous clouds had appeared in the sky.  Therefore, Aunt Dorothy advised Alphonse to get the robot to his shed.  “You made Sam perform marvelously,” she added with a smile.

“We will schedule the visit to the atelier for early next week,” Aunt Dorothy said pensively.  “Then, at the board meeting a few days later, Alphonse will be even more informed and ready to impress the board members.”

Alphonse listened to aunt Dorothy’s comments with an impassive expression.  Her high expectations obviously did not affect him adversely.  I knew that he would perform admirably.  On a number of previous occasions, I had seen him shine on center stage.

While he studied the instructions for the use of the remote, Alphonse was thinking aloud: “I must keep in mind that Sam’s cousins are much more advanced.  Therefore, if I notice a response that appears to need improvement, there is a good likelihood that the adjustment has already been made.  Nevertheless, I will make a note of any area where I would like to see betterment.  Then, when we visit the workshop, I will check on the cousins’ advancement in those areas.”

(Continued from May 06, 2010)

The ladies and I kept pace with Sam by walking briskly.  After about fifteen meters, the robot came to a sudden halt.  We turned around to look at Alphonse, who had remained near the shed.  He shouted: “I am going to experiment with the goggles.  Please, stay clear of my field of vision.”

Sam resumed his jaunt–again at fast speed.  About one meter from the Mini’s rear bumper, he stopped.  Then, seconds after Alphonse had plugged in the cord for the goggles, the robot’s arms moved to a horizontal position and Sam very slowly advanced toward the automobile.  A slight adjustment during the approach allowed the arms to slip neatly under the steel bumper.

Alphonse walked toward us proclaiming: “According to the manual, Sam is quite strong.  So, I’ll get him to lift up the back of the Mini.  By means of hydraulic cylinders in the ‘legs,’ he will be able to raise it about fifty centimeters.”

While he spoke, Alphonse opened his hatch, took out two twelve-by-twelve centimeters thick wooden blocks and explained:  “In an upright position, these are about forty-five centimeters; so, they should fit neatly under the bumper.  After lowering the car on them, Sam will be able to attend to other duties.”

The project panned out as Alphonse had planned it.  Sam readily lifted the Mini’s rear end to fifty plus centimeters, allowing the easy placement of the wooden blocks.

Next, my young friend spread a tarpaulin on the blacktop behind the Mini and sat down on it.  He then directed the robot to take a certain jigsaw blade from his breast pocket and insert it in the cordless.

At that point in time, Alphonse realized that his spectators might be somewhat puzzled about the project in progress; so, he explained: “According to the manual, the blade that is presently in the cordless will easily cut through steel piping.  Well, my exhaust pipe is rusted through and held up with wire.  Using the goggles, I will be able to do a precision job in cutting it exactly in the right spot.”

Without further ado, Alphonse shrank the robot to its lowest position and made him move under the Mini.  My young friend then stretched out on the tarpaulin; and, with the use of the goggles, was obviously able to find, with ease, the most appropriate place for the severing process.  For, within seconds, we heard a few strokes of the blade and the “clang” as the metal hit the pavement.

Ominous clouds had appeared in the sky.  Therefore, Aunt Dorothy advised Alphonse to get the robot to his shed.  “You made Sam perform marvelously,” she added with a smile.

(To be continued)

(Continued from May 03, 2010)

“We will schedule the visit to the atelier for early next week,” Aunt Dorothy said pensively.  “Then, at the board meeting a few days later, Alphonse will be even more informed and ready to impress the board members.”

Alphonse listened to aunt Dorothy’s comments with an impassive expression.  Her high expectations obviously did not affect him adversely.  I knew that he would perform admirably.  On a number of previous occasions, I had seen him shine on center stage.

My young friend had removed the electric cords that had attached Sam to the battery recharger.  Then, very slowly, he manually turned the robot around so that he was facing the doors and said: “It would be best if all of you stand behind Sam. The buttons on the remote may be very responsive.  My fingers may have to adapt very quickly to applying the right amount of pressure.  Otherwise, Sam might sense that his usual master is not at the controls,” he added jokingly.

“I am assuming that you have several different speeds,” I remarked.

“That is a correct assumption,” Alphonse replied.  “There are three separate buttons—slow, medium and fast.  In addition, I have five knobs to adjust direction.”

“Really?” Thea questioned.  “Beside ‘straight ahead’ or ‘left’ or ‘right’ what else is there?”

“I also have ‘extreme left’ and ‘extreme right.’  And, there is a note in the manual that cautions against attempting the extreme course directions at fast speed.  I like the terminology they are using; they talk about the little fellow ‘losing his footing,’ as would a dancer or a skater.”

Alphonse made Sam move out of his shed at low speed and, he thought, straight ahead.  However, the robot gradually started turning toward the big shade tree.  “Something is not functioning correctly,” my young friend grumbled.  “I did press the ‘straight ahead’ knob.”  Then, after a closer inspection of the remote, he asserted: “Ah, I just figured it out.  The ‘right’ button was still down; it needed to be pressed to pop up.  So, now I have to push ‘left’ if I don’t want Sam to hit the big tree.”

The ladies were visibly as pleased as I was with Alphonse’s running commentary.  He wanted us to be an integral part of an experience that he enjoyed immensely.

By using the “left” button, Alphonse was able to correct Sam’s direction.  Having done so, he pressed “straight ahead” and “fast.”  The robot sped forward toward the big open space, where the Austin Mini was parked.

(To be continued)

Seconds after Thea finished her discourse in praise of her adopted brother, he walked in, sat down and exclaimed: “That gate is a marvel; it moves swiftly and noiselessly.”  Alphonse then explained, with a chuckle: “As my long-time friend is well aware, I have an idiosyncrasy pertaining to malfunctioning doors, gates, windows, etc.  My former landlords profited from that hang-up.  In my rented apartments, I made all hanging and sliding objects smooth-functioning.”

“On the topic of smooth-functioning objects, I have a suggestion,” Aunt Dorothy asserted.  “Seeing that, at the moment, the weather is beautiful and the forecast for this afternoon is not so good, now is the right time for Alphonse to familiarize himself with Sam.  There are general directions about the use of the remote in the back of the manual.  While you peruse those, I will get the master key for Sam’s shed.  I have no idea where the guard keeps his copy.”

While he studied the instructions for the use of the remote, Alphonse was thinking aloud: “I must keep in mind that Sam’s cousins are much more advanced.  Therefore, if I notice a response that appears to need improvement, there is a good likelihood that the adjustment has already been made.  Nevertheless, I will make a note of any area where I would like to see betterment.  Then, when we visit the workshop, I will check on the cousins’ advancement in those areas.”

I had a feeling that Alphonse would make the contraption move at top speed within a short period of time.  It was a talent that my young friend had displayed on numerous occasions, well before he got his hands on the Sophia remote.

(To be continued)

(Continued from April 30, 2010)

Thea and I started walking toward the exit and Alphonse, relying on his peripheral vision, followed us.  He was audibly uttering, again and again, a technical phrase—as one does for the purpose of increasing comprehension.  That was followed by: “Ah, I have got it.  I now know what they are trying to say.”

My daughter and I walked leisurely toward Sam’s shed with my young friend about ten steps behind us.  We did not go right up to the imposing structure because an enormous tree threw its shade on and all around the shed.  We preferred waiting in the sunshine until aunt Dorothy arrived, which would be within minutes as we observed her exiting from the main house.

After the outside door had swung open, we entered into a small antechamber where a second solid door barred our way.  Aunt Dorothy opened that one with a numerical code.  The wrong code would set off a siren.

For those of us who had never before entered the robots’ dwelling place, two white circles caught our attention first.  Sam occupied the one on the right; the one on the left was empty.  When aunt Dorothy flicked on a second light, a workbench took on prominence.  It stretched all along one wall and many parts and tools were scattered on its surface.

As she pointed at the oil-covered items, aunt said, with a laugh: “That used to be Agnes.  She was one of our first prototypes.  Compared to Sam, who appeared on the scene less than a year later, Agnes was quite clumsy.  Seeing that the designers’ workshop did not want her back, the guard dismantled her.  He reasoned: ‘If I can learn something about the way her different parts interact, I may be able to transfer that knowledge to running Sam more easily.’  The CTO at the workshop didn’t think that the guard would gain much transferable wisdom in the process; but, he admired his enthusiasm for wanting to make Sam function as well as possible.”

“As you pointed out, Agnes was not at all satisfactory from an engineer’s point of view,” Alphonse responded.  “Therefore, the technicians probably had a few brainstorming sessions and they decided to abandon completely the method they had previously employed.  Their trial-and-error experience had taught them that an entirely new procedure was necessary.”

“That is an excellent assessment,” a broadly smiling aunt Dorothy asserted.  “It sounds eerily similar to what the CTO told the board at the time.”

“Judging by clever Sam, I would say that their new direction is a success,” I observed.  “And, I am really looking forward to seeing his even more advanced cousins in action.”

(To be continued)