Look Who's Coming to Dinner!

Pruned Table Grape Vines Ready for 2012

Yes, yes -- I know. I KNOW. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that this song is just ENTIRELY inappropriate for this blog posting. Well -- too bad. Because -- you're wrong. Because it is quite appropriate.

YES -- I do understand the meaning behind this song. I didn't at first -- but you'll have to excuse me -- I was just a kid prancing across the living room floor during the gilded 1970's "Disco Age" when this tune first hit the airwaves. It had a catchy beat. I liked it. I still like it.

It was my older and much wiser brother who caught me by the arm one day while mid prance with the question of, "you know what this song means, right?"

Thompson Table Grape is "Coming Out" to Play

"No," was my innocent response. Even though we were alone at the time, he whispered in my ear.

"Oh," I replied as my eyes opened somewhat wider. They quickly turned somewhat perplexed when I looked at my brother and asked (innocently, I might add), "what does that mean?"

He again whispered in my ear. "OH, I get it," I responded as my eyeballs nearly popped out of my skull.

I didn't prance much after that to be brutally honest. Hey, it was 1970's Modesto. They didn't teach us much about "alternative anything" back in that day. You were considered "edgy" if you ordered a blueberry snow cone.

It's looking a lot like the year of an early harvest in the Bird Back 40. No -- there's nothing quite ready to harvest just yet -- but give it time. The fruit trees are popping way early. As I write this, the flowering Santa Rosa plum tree is nearly finished, as are the nectarine trees. The Royal Rainier Cherry appears ready to pop open at any moment. And -- as you can tell by the photo to your left -- the table grape vines are indeed, "coming out."

I wasn't expecting this early growth out of the table grape vines to be brutally honest. They didn't pop open like this last year. I knew I was in a bit of trouble when I saw the first hint of green on the Thompson seedless. Hey! I hadn't done my homework! I wasn't ready.

Vines Need a Haircut!

This is what vines look like after a long winter snooze. Much like hair looks in the morning after a good snooze -- the best thing you can say about this picture is: jumbled. The vines were in need of a good haircut. And this is now the all-important third year for grapevine production. This should be the year when I finally see the first nice harvest of home-grown table grapes.

This is provided -- of course -- those damn mockingbirds don't get to the tasty treat first. Did I mention they were back this year? Oh yeah -- much like a bad dream -- this mischievous pair flew back into the Bird Back 40 one afternoon not all that long ago. They'd been gone for a good long time -- but not before stripping the yard of cherry tomatoes, grapes, pluots, peaches and anything else they could get their beaks into.

Mockingbirds have no shame. But they do have an appetite.

But -- back to all things vines. They are clearly popping. Whether I'm ready or not? They are clearly "coming out," or "coming to dinner."

Spur Pruned Thompson Table Grape

There are two ways to prune a table grape vine: Spur pruning and cane pruning. Some vines react better to spur pruning like the Thompson. Others, like the Black Monukka, really don't give a damn. Spur prune or cane prune, the Black Monukka is going to throw out a bunch of tasty table grapes come Hell or high water and that's just the way things are. In my particular case? I practice both styles.

Some vines -- like the Thompson -- just tend to develop nicely formed spurs at the top of the trunk. They jut out at nice angles. When I first started to prune this vine? I had about ten of them to choose from. But I was only going to keep two. One would head in a northerly direction -- while the other would head south.

Table Grape Vines Pruned and Tied

As for the Black Monukka -- it also had nice spur development. But it also had fat canes protruding directly from a well-established trunk. Do you know what new canes that directly protrude from a well-established trunk mean? It means grapes, my friend. It means loads and loads of table grapes. Although I had to prune some of those canes back to the trunk -- not all of them got the pruning treatment. The fattest canes are now tied down to the metal cattle fencing that serves as our "trellis."

Sadly, not all the table grape vines look as good as the Thompson and the Black Monukka. The Crimson Seedless, for example, got a "do over" whack job. What does the scientific term of "do over whack job" mean? It means part of the vine that I had chosen for trunk development a year earlier really hadn't grown all that well. Instead, a vine that developed near the base of the trunk took off and grew a good 15 feet. It was the fattest, most good looking cane that the Crimson Seedless developed last summer.

I wasn't going to lose that good looking vine under any circumstance, so the under-performing, original trunk is now resting comfortably somewhere near the bottom of our green waste can. This means table-grape production on the Crimson will be somewhat limited this year. But -- when it comes right down to it -- that doesn't matter to me. The Crimson now has a nice trunk that should develop a nice spur over the growing season that is now upon us.

That's important.

Strong Trunk Development

In other cases -- I simply did not keep after some of the vines like I should have. I allowed bottom growth to proliferate last summer -- which was a bad move. Bottom growth steals energy from the fruiting canes above. Canes located near the ground are going to get pruned back anyway. So -- they should be pruned almost immediately after they develop. I didn't do that. This is a mistake that resulted in long, strong bottom canes and weaker-than-expected development where I wanted it: at the top of the vine.

But -- that is just one small worry. Nothing is perfect in the world of grapevine development. Some vines are going to be perfect and others - well -- not so much. The eight table grapevines have developed well in the Bird Back 40. Trunk growth is strong. They love the new home. And they provide a nice barrier to the main raised bed vegetable garden. It looks pretty during the summer months.

And when you're in the process of "coming out," the word "pretty" is pretty darned important.

Yard DESTRUCTION!

Actually -- the name of this posting should be "Yard Construction" as this is about a yard construction project.

But -- I find I'm much better at DESTRUCTION rather than actual CONSTRUCTION -- hence the name. I just have it in me I suppose. The wisest of intentions just goes terribly wrong whenever I'm set loose in the Back 40 with a shovel.

You can see the latest destruction project to your right. This is BARE ROOT season folks. Bill & Venus Bird are just not content with the eight fruit trees and four citrus trees in the front and backyard. Nope! There's gotta be more, more, more, more!!!

Sound greedy? Good. Cause -- we are. And -- perhaps mildly insane.

But the thing with Bare Root season is this: Your window of opportunity is short and sweet. Unending weeks of rain and snow have taken up a lot of it. We've got about another week or so left before fruit trees bust out in Bloom City -- and that means bare root season has passed you buy.

I'll keep this short and sweet -- because -- to be honest -- I shouldn't be sitting here typing. I should be in the backyard -- DIGGING. This irrigation project is now complete. What comes next is driving posts into the ground. After that? Stringing up some wire between the posts. And after that?

The table grapes arrive.

I'm a sucker for table grapes. I hate wine -- but I LOVE grape soda. A fine Chardonnay for you Mr. Bird? No thanks -- but I'll take a grape snowcone if you got one. The kid in me who used to by grape snowcones for ten cents each from "Smitty" never did quite grow up. I've always wanted tablegrapes. Now I will finally get them in my own backyard.

Oh -- and not just any tablegrapes either. These seedless varieties are actually offshoots of the old seeded varieties that ruled the Sacramento Valley. Names like Ribier, Tokay and Norwegian are nothing but old street names in my hometown of Modesto now. But -- at one time -- it represented a field of grapevines.

That includes the "Venus" tablegrape that was released to the public for the first time in 1977 and has slowly been making its way west. Is it the best tasting tablegrape on the planet? No -- but it carries the wife's lovely name. Therefore -- it's a keeper in the backyard of Bird.

Now -- the thing is -- I've never planted or grown any type of grape before. Like most things -- you just can't "plant and ferget." If you want grapes -- you need to care for them. You've got to grow them correctly. In other words -- you've got to love them -- or they will not love you back.

The number one piece of advice I heard from backyard arborists? Make sure the water source and stakes are installed first BEFORE digging one hole for a grapevine. Thus -- YARD DESTRUCTION man went into business one fine day in between rainstorms.

I had already come to the conclusion that I could not tap into the drip tubing that I have installed against the fenceline. This is a line that I had to split last summer because I had tapped into so much for other watering purposes -- I was losing pressure on the line.

Therefore -- the closest source of water that I hadn't yet overutilized was located inside the main planter area -- where I normally plant the bulk of my spring and summer gardens (including those wonderful heirloom tomatoes). But this also presented a vexing problem. I had already covered this area with five yards of bark. I never thought that I would need to tap into those lines.

Note to self: The word "never" is a term that should be eliminated from gardening lingo.

The bottom line? I needed to tap into that line. Know what this means? It means raking away whatever bark that hasn't sunk into the soil -- so you can access a clay soil that has the consistency of a jello-like concrete during the rainy season. The good? It's easy to cut through with a trenching shovel. The bad? Each shovel full weighs a metric ton. Worse yet -- the clay sticks to the shovel like glue.

There is a *special* time of year in the backyard where the soil is at perfect condition for digging. It's damp enough where the soil comes up easily and breaks apart into a fine dirt. But it's dry enough where it falls from the shovel with ease -- and is light and airy.

This *special* time of year lasts for approximately 30-seconds every year. And wouldn't you know it? I've missed that window of opportunity every single year. When I start digging? It's either as hard as lava cap or wet like sticky molasses. I'm not going to fool you. This isn't easy work.

But it's the payoff that keeps you going. Soon -- the vines -- which have already arrived from Bay Laurel Nursery and are sitting in shed belonging to Carri Stokes -- will be planted. I don't expect anything out of these vines in the first year. I don't expect a whole bunch in Year Two either.

But by Year 3? Baby, it's grape soda time.

In case you're interested, the varieties I'm planting are the aforementioned Venus (pictured above), Thompson (2), Red Flame, Suffolk Red, Crimson, Fantasy and Black Monukka.