Oba and I have recently taken up the mantle of creating a great varietal from the vines we are growing in the Hollow. Oba was able to start planting earlier than myself as I was impeded by poor planning, a lack of space and misplaced Oracle head. However, after careful consideration, taking into account the angle of the sun, hours of daylight, wind velocity, temperature and water availability, I planted my vines on the roof.
I fetched many a pail of water from my well and ascended many stairs to attain my goal, but the beds were laid and seeds nestled in the soil. I now anxiously await my sprouts.
With time to spare, I took it upon myself to assist Oba in extracting the juice from the grape. I felt the traditional method to be best and so with great vigor, leapt on the trellis. I proceeded to work my way up and down the vines, the succulent grapes bursting beneath my feet.
Oba, however, found error in my technique and questioned whether I knew what I was doing. I tried to reassure him, that I was on intimate terms with wine and when it came to purchasing and emptying said bottles, few were as skilled as I.
He countered that we were engaged in the process of filling the bottles, not emptying them. The distinction was lost on me.
"While I admire your zeal," he began, "you have neglected to not only wash your feet before treading on the grapes, you are still wearing your cloth boots!" I looked down to take heed of his words.
"Further, you were just using the outhouse!"
"Come now! I didn’t use my feet while I was in there. What sort of barbarian do you take me for?"
He acquiesced on this point, but continued with, "And you don’t crush the grapes while they’re still on the vine. You have to pick them first! You harvest the ripe ones and leave the others to soak in more sun."
"But this is more efficient!" I declared, quite firm in my convictions. His words had merit, but I fell I was on the more solid course.
Giving in to my logic, Oba asked, "Where is the bucket to catch the juice?"
At this, I looked down from the trellis, the juice of the vine seeping into the soil below.
"Well, you have me there," I replied. "A slight oversight on my part due to my zeal to get started. But fear not! I shall employ the services of the hot tub and we’ll be back in business!"
More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia
- Pumpkinhead rises out of the not so sincere pumpkin patch
- My suspicions confirmed
- I can’t condone this sort of thing
- The Pyramid of the Cryptkeeper
- The Overland Map is set to get overhauled
- A visit to Skrekk
- A fantastic treehouse … gone wrong
- Whiskey thievery gone a rye
- Into the Sewers for Fortune and Glory! Into the River for Health and Sanitation!
- I do my best to fill Oba’s leggings