Tag: Bob

Father’s Day

Last week I went out to the vineyards with Bob and his son, Gabriel. Bob was doing his weekly inspection, checking the progress of the vines, looking for any signs of disease or weather damage. There had been some hail the week before and some leaves were damaged but the baby fruit looked fine. Gabriel is a bright and curious six-year-old boy and when you see him playing with friends or his little sister, you notice a gentle and caring nature.

Gabriel ©2012 Ron Scherl

All Gabby’s questions start “Daddy?” and Bob’s patience is impressive. Every one is answered seriously as Bob treats him with respect and guides him with knowledge, encouraging more questions. While looking out for his safety, he also gives him the freedom to explore, and plants the seeds of self-reliance so necessary for growth. Bob urges him to join in the inspection, teaching his trade, letting him touch and understand, transferring his love of the land. It occurs to me that this is exactly the progression of generations that has farmed these vineyards for centuries. That Bob is not French and not from here means nothing at all; he is doing what the Calvets and Raynauds and Batlles and Lafages have always done in farming their land and passing the knowledge along to the next generation, along with the strength and independence needed to make it work. Societies like this can be suffocating to some who will find it necessary to leave; others will take comfort in tradition and stay. But with the continuity of knowledge, if you feel the need to rebel, at least you know what you’re rejecting.

Late in the morning, Bob and I were walking together in a very hilly vineyard; Gabriel lagging behind picking up rocks and sticks. When he looked up and realized he’d lost sight of us, Gabby was frightened and cried out for Bob, who ran back to pick him up and comfort him.

Bob and Gabriel ©2012 Ron Scherl

I’ve seen Bob be stern and strict when he thought the boy’s behavior was inappropriate; out in the vineyards this day I saw the rest of the job: the guidance, caring, patience and love of a parent. Watching them interact you feel that Bob will not hesitate to provide guidance and encouragement when needed, criticism and discipline when warranted. Within this framework are positive expectations of independence, self-reliance, security and comfort.

We never see the whole story, but it’s nice when the good stuff’s in focus.

The Café

“Grand Hotel…always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens.”

 

In Maury, everyone comes to the café Friday nights. When I arrive Richard and Bob are sitting with Bardot who’s on his semi-hourly pastis break from painting my house. I go to buy him another and gather hugs from the kids on my way to the bar. Bob and I discuss an apartment for rent next door to his house that he had arranged for me to see, but it’s not for me. I need more, a comfortable place where I can feel at home. Meanwhile, Richard is fielding a call from the US and Bardot lets himself into Ben’s house and emerges with a flat of tomato plants. The next day Bardot shows me his garden and where he’s planting Ben’s tomatoes.

 

Jean-Roger and the rain arrive at about the same time, but when the rain turns to hail, JR dashes off to the vineyards to check the vines. The fruit is just beginning to form and is extremely vulnerable to hail. He returns with a report of not much damage and everyone smiles and another round appears.

 

He also mentions a house that will be available soon and promises to find out more. I’ll need to follow up.

 

The children love the rain and I become the adult designated to lift the kids up to push the rain off the awning. Did I forget to mention that we are outside? Smokers.

 

Aimee has a small encounter with a very small dog, many tears but not much damage. The dog’s owner then gets a bit of a talking to from Pierre, the proprietor, who follows it up by buying him a drink.

 

Sarah appears and tells me how much she loved meeting my sister. She talks for a bit about how important siblings are, how they ground us, connect us to the past and most of all to family. I say little, thinking instead of other connections. Sarah mentions that her brother is coming for a visit and she’s sure I’ll like him.

 

Jean-Roger leaves and Manu arrives with young Clarice. The rain stops, starts again, and then the sky clears.

 

Marcel stops in for a beer followed by Taieb the hunter and Jean Pla, who is now a negociant, buying wine from coops and selling it under his own labels. He has an “End of the World” cuvé from Bugarach that’s a big seller. Taieb is a hunter of wild boar but he doesn’t eat pork so I asked him if the pleasure for him was in the hunt. He responded by inviting me to go with him, just to shoot cameras, not guns. I agreed and we made a tentative plan subject to weather, etc.

Taieb ©2012 Ron Scherl

 

Pizza appears and the pizza kid has not taken my advice. He needs to put the chorizo on top of the cheese and put the pizza on the floor of the oven, not on a tray so the crust can bake. Having established myself as a photographer I now need to turn some of my attention to pizza. So much work, so little time.

 

Fragments of conversation roll around the tables until overwhelmed by a political rant clearly anti-government, but otherwise unintelligible to me and most everyone else. I understand very little but it really doesn’t seem to matter. I nod, shrug, pet the dog, make the pff sound and non, non, say beh, shake my head, order a drink. It resembles a conversation until I head for home.