I'm picking my grapes late. I don't care for them enough. The bunches are overcrowded, and caramel rot, regular mould and all the other permutations are rife in the depths of the huge bunches. It's always a race; will they ripen, ere they rot? The weird, sickly, winey sweetness, the tough leathery skins, suggest that this year is not a good vintage; my concrete terroir has been a terror.
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