#I could preserve the crumbling root cellar!

[rosesutherlandwrites]

Remind me that the very last house I need to buy is one at the top end of my budget (which money still doesn't exist before sometime next year) that needs extensive work (new roof, new wood shingle, new septic system), no matter how much it's a tiny 19th C cottage perched at the edge of the North Atlantic in a fishing village with a thriving creative folk art community just outside my favourite town, close enough I could bike there.

[six-of-ravens]

attempted a smoothie this morning. it's....all right. still not my favourite way to eat fruit. very thicc, I should've used 1 cup of milk instead of half like the recipe said. also I've been reminded why I hate blenders. SO LOUD!!!! i feel like I have to go apologize to all my neighbours now and I only ran it for about 30 seconds.

ah well, it used up a peach, an apricot, and a cup of strawberries that were all threatening to go bad, and I'm trying to hydrate Extra since my covid shot is this afternoon.

[the2travel]

* World Travel Tips : What Winemakers Want You To Know About Virginia’s Wine Renaissance

Travel Tips -

I arrive in Charlottesville before noon on a pristine spring day, the rolling green hills a far cry from where I started my morning, before sunrise in an Uber to JFK. I’m here to learn about Virginia’s unique wine culture. My first guide is Gabriele Rausse, an old school Italian winemaker known as the father of Virginia’s modern wine renaissance.

My image of an intimidating wine expert evaporates upon meeting Rausse. With a laidback demeanor that is standard fare around here, Rausse offers to take me on a tour of the surrounding vineyards, and soon we are cruising along winding country roads in his 1979 Mercedes. Rausse begins to unfurl Virginia’s wine history. From the canopy of sun-dappled maples to the rolling hills dotted with vineyards, I am struck by the lushness of Virginia’s countryside.

Vintage Roots

Like most American success stories, Virginia has had to crush a variety of obstacles on its 400 year path to becoming a respected winemaking region. In the early 1600s, the first colonists tried to cultivate the area’s native vines to produce a cash crop, but ongoing attempts were thwarted by the region’s diverse climate.

By the 1770s, European winemakers were commissioned to try their luck with planting the European Vitis vinifera outside of Williamsburg, but even the experts couldn’t achieve a successful harvest. Construction began at Monticello, and along with Jefferson’s grand vision for a mountaintop estate, the founding father ensured that wine would always have a legacy in Virginia.

Rausse and I head back to Monticello to walk around the grounds where Jefferson planted 330 varieties of fruits and vegetables, along with two vineyards in which he planted 24 varieties of grapes sloping down the mountainside. Jefferson’s original crops didn’t survive, but he continued to establish wine as an important part of Virginia’s culture by importing more than 400 bottles from Europe a year to serve at Monticello’s famous dinner parties. He even installed dumbwaiters from the wine cellar to the dining room to keep the vino flowing without interruption.

Modern Revival

Rausse and I stop to admire the tight green clusters of grapes now flourishing in Jefferson’s original vineyard. Overseeing Monticello’s grounds and gardens for the past 22 years, Rausse has brought Jefferson’s dream to fruition by restoring the vineyards with several of the original vine varieties that Jefferson planted back in 1807. Several vintages produced from these grapes are now sold in Monticello’s Museum Shop, including a crisp Chardonnay and Bordeaux-style blends.

We pause to take in the spectacular panoramic view of the Piedmont and Blue Ridge Mountains that unfurl beyond Jefferson’s vineyards, where 30 wineries welcome guests along the Monticello Wine Trail.  All these wineries are located within 25 miles of Charlottesville, making this a great destination for wine lovers to enjoy tastings, wine festivals, live music, or just soak in the beauty of the Virginia’s countryside.

Jefferson laid roots for winemaking in Virginia, but it wasn’t until the 1960s that Virginia’s winemaking really took off. Looking to expand internationally, Italian winemaker Gianni Zonin bought a parcel of land outside of Charlottesville, taking a risk on a region where many had failed. He sent his vineyard manager, Gabriele Rausse, to find a fresh solution to get the wine flowing in Virginia.

Upon arriving in Virginia in 1976, Rausse was up against a healthy dose of skepticism from locals, who assured him that pinot noir could not be grown in Charlottesville. But these challenges invigorated him: “Before I came, I checked the climate of Charlottesville, and it was exactly the same climate of my town in Italy. So I said, why shouldn’t it grow here?”

Over the next six years, Rausse cultivated the fields of what is now Barboursville Vineyards, becoming the first vintner to successfully plant Vitis vinifera in the region. And in the spirit of generosity that Virginia seems to cultivate, Rausse shared his trade secrets with other local vintners. The number of wineries in Virginia steadily grew from a handful in 1980 to more than 300 today.

Like all great winemakers, Rausse let the land guide him. He realized that the grafting process had to be perfect to survive the region’s drastic seasonal changes. And when it comes to climate, Rausse tells me that “Virginia does whatever she wants.” While growers in California can rely on a mostly stable climate with temperate growing conditions, in Virginia, “there’s no year that the climate is the same.”

This is how underdog stories go. Every time the climate or seasonal variation throws a new challenge at Virginia’s winemakers, they adapt, and it’s this spirit of innovation that has allowed Virginian viticulture to thrive. With a harvest season that runs according to Mother Nature’s whims, the result is constant experimentation. For wine lovers, that means discovering a new and unique flavor profile with every visit to Virginia’s wineries.

History Preserved and Perfected

I say goodbye to Rausse at Monticello and make the 40-minute drive to Barboursville Vineyards, often credited as Virginia’s top winery. A quick rain shower en route leaves a pleasant earthiness in the air and the sun re-emerges to confirm the tranquility of Charlottesville. Even the highways here feel steeped in nature, reminding this longtime city dweller of the simple pleasure of cruising along a beautiful country road.

I pull into Barboursville and am struck by the size of the vineyard, a sea of rolling green hills and orderly rows of trellises stretching farther than the eye can see. It feels like a respite from the real world.  

Luca Paschina, general manager and winemaker at Barboursville, has offered to show me around. Like Rausse, Paschina comes from a family of Italian winemakers, and made his way to Virginia in 1990 to run Barboursville.

I climb into Paschina’s SUV and we make our way along sloping hillsides covered in neat rows of vines. Paschina tells me about the 18 varieties of grapes they have planted, and how even small changes in the slope can lead to hugely different yields. In his 17 years at the helm of Barboursville, he has grown the vineyard from 45 acres to almost 200, and launched a tasting room and restaurant that welcomes 80,000 visitors per year. Paschina is particularly excited about the burgeoning interest in aged red wines in Virginia, and the tasting room features a large collection of older vintages, offering yet another draw for wine connoisseurs.

The vineyard’s bestselling wine is called Octagon, a harmonious blend of Bordeaux, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petit Verdot with a smooth-bodied finish. The wine is enhanced by its historical connections, with the name Octagon chosen in honor of the octagonal shaped dining room of James Barbour’s mansion, whose ruins flank the inn on the Barboursville property. Designed by Jefferson, the mansion burned to the ground in 1884.

Winemakers are preservationists, and Zonin has instituted an ongoing restoration process to shore up the crumbling ruins from further disrepair. With their stately brick remains coexisting peacefully with the bucolic countryside, the ruins are a sight to behold, and yet another reason to add Barboursville to your next wine tour itinerary.

I am staying the night at the 1804 Inn, adjacent to the ruins and built a century before. I’ve got the Vineyard Cottage all to myself, and the quaint 18th century dwelling is perfect for travelers seeking tranquility and privacy. I take a stroll to the ruins before turning in for the night, thinking that Jefferson would be pleased at how things turned out around here.

Laidback Luxury

The next morning I drive back toward Monticello, where I am meeting Kirsty Harmon, winemaker and manager at Blenheim Vineyards. Whereas Barboursville is steeped in history, Blenheim takes a more casual and contemporary approach to wines. “The nice thing about Virginia wineries is that every single place you go is going to be radically different than the next,” said Harmon. Visitors to Blenheim are encouraged to bring the whole family to enjoy music festivals, food trucks, and tastings at the 30-acre vineyard.

Blenheim is owned by musician Dave Matthews, who designs new bottle labels every year. Harmon says that some visitors come because of Dave Matthews, and learn a bit about wine in the process, and some come for the wine and learn about the Dave Matthews connection.

The vibe at Blenheim may be laid back, but its wines are rooted in Harmon’s deep scientific knowledge of winemaking. As one of only 20 or so female winemakers in Virginia, Harmon got her footing in the industry when she met Gabriele Rausse, who became her mentor. She’s been running Blenheim since 2008, and in that time has seen a huge increase in wine tourism. Blenheim welcomes 45,000 visitors a year for tastings.

True to her vineyard’s laid back vibe, Harmon creates wines that are fruit forward and approachable, meant for everyday drinking: “We try to present wine in an approachable but laid back way. Wine can get very intimidating and stuffy, but it doesn’t have to be that.”

My wine journey is nearing its end. I’ve learned firsthand that a spirit of generosity is as much a part of the winemaker’s job as a deeply ingrained knowledge of the land, from its history to its soil composition. Jefferson runs deep around here.

But the wineries of Virginia aren’t just bringing Jefferson’s dreams full circle; they’re also taking Virginia’s wine culture into bold new territory, where laid back and luxurious can coexist, making Charlottesville the perfect weekend destination for both newcomers and wine aficionados alike.

Experience the rich flavors of Virginia’s wines for yourself. Check out Virginia Tourism for a guide to the best wineries around the state and plan your next trip to relax in the laid back luxury of Virginia’s beautiful vineyards. Because Virginia is for wine lovers!

type=type=RelatedArticlesblockTitle=More From Virginia Tourism + articlesList=57b73572e4b03d5136881586

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World Travel Tips : Find cheap flights, hotels and car rentals. Plan your trip with travel guides, personalized recommendations, articles, deals and more. When you travel, you want your bags to travel with you. Follow these tips from travel professionals on how not to lose your luggage.

[long-way-down-rp-archive]

Constructs

“Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.” - Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Spend a while wandering ‘round this town’s stranger nooks and crannies, and there’s not much you won’t believe. But even in those certain circles, folks are liable to shake their head at certain tales. Like Constructs, and the brutal, mysterious craft of forming them. It shouldn’t be done, they insist, grasping at the ethics of the thing; it can’t be done, they remind themselves. Making a true Construct, moulding life from magic. It’s a wildass kind of idea, ain’t it? The sort of thing those alchemists of old spent their whole lives chasing after, holed away in their studies with bubbling vats and glimmering vials and dreams of godliness for company. Hell, you can find some of that shit online these days. Strange codes. Bizarre illustrations. Recipes of spit and eggs, human blood, mandrake roots. Ridiculous, of course. Wasn’t like any of them ever managed to pull it off. Right?

Wrong, though it’s easy to forgive the doubters. See, any Practitioner who burrowed down this particular rabbit hole had damn good reason to keep it secret. This was back when, you know: the last, bloated days of Rome, the golden age of the Caliphates, medieval Europe’s dim and plague-ridden days, and the dawn of the Renaissance, those centuries saw quite the surge of interest in the strange school of Construction. But even among other magic workers, such pursuits were viewed as an eccentricity at best, an aberrance at worst. Constructionists don’t seem to have ever been all that numerous. They sure didn’t have a reputation for being chummy. Most were ferociously jealous of their work, guarding their research and experiments behind layers of ciphers, wards, and locked doors. The isolation of their studies might be pressing, but. Better than having your breakthroughs stolen. Or getting hauled off by some witchhunter, or another inquisition. And so, in secret, they labored. And failed. And attempted, again and again and again... and, every now and then, they managed it.

Sadly, of those few constructionists who ever succeeded, fewer still came at the project with love and tenderness. Preciously rare were Practitioners who thought of these creations as beings unto themselves, with a will and a soul all their own. Some knew their Construct as a friend. Maybe, even, as family. As a child, as real and beloved as any other. Most, though, they dismissed such things outright. In their cruelty and hubris they styled themselves as masters, and looked at who they’d made like a what. Will? Nonsense, a Construct was made to serve, to obey. A soul? Laughable. As astounding as they might be, Constructs were things. Objects, possessions. A demonstration of their creator’s brilliance, and a tool to be used. They didn’t feel, or imagine, or want. Of course not, just as they didn’t tire or hunger. In the usual way, at least. And therein lay the master’s leverage, when - and it was a when, not an if - their “servants” began to show any inkling of aspirations, disagreement, rejection. Without the might of their maker, the arcane power that nourished them, a Construct was certain to crumble away to pieces. They were just a pile of stone and clay, wood and copper; their creator’s sorcery was all that was keeping them on the move. To leave, or rebel, was to bring about their own destruction. So the threats went, anyway. As it turned out, that was a load of horseshit. Many “masters” had those delusions - and their bones - shattered, when their “servants” rose up. And then... well, then that liberated Construct was free. To leave those dank cellars and sealed towers, to see the world outside. To find their own way.

But how was it all done, you ask? Ain’t that the question. The crucial specifics, those varied, and tended to die with who did the constructing. Still, Practitioners who’ve taken a historical interest in the craft have worked out the basic principles, gleaned from what’s survived. First, a vessel was made, forged of earthly things and imbued with great sorceries. Next, and the most delicately, hideously dangerous part of the undertaking: the wounding of magic itself. To achieve their ends, a constructionist had to reach out and touch the very warp and weave of all that power swirling loose behind, within, and around all things. Then they needed to tear a thread loose, and tie it tight to that physical form they’d made. That moment, that forceful severing and binding - this was where Constructs were born. Were? Well, as tough as Construction was back when, seems like it’s only got harder. Impossible, maybe. Magic, the free-flowing, ambient sort, it just ain’t what it was. What constructionist records there are fade out as the centuries turn. Among those who do believe Constructs ever truly existed, it’s generally figured that they’re a thing of the past, an enigma lost to time, never to be fully solved. But, y’know. Wouldn’t be the first time somebody got ‘em wrong...

The nature and abilities of a Construct are scantly known, and poorly understood. Should you happen to come across a reliable source - which you’re sure as hell not likely to - here’s a few things you might learn.

The vessel of a Construct can be made of all sorts of things, twine and cloth to stone and wire and so on. Amongst those tales that might be true, it’s rare to see Constructs too much larger than a human; the larger the body, the more magic required to hold it together. Bound and preserved by that sorcery, these elements will survive much longer than they naturally ought to. How long? Depends how well they’re cared for - to keep themselves together and well, Constructs need access to a not inconsiderable amount of raw magic. That’s not consumed, merely... inhaled, exhaled. A Construct can glean the power they need from magically charged objects and places, especially those that are in tune with their making. The art of a conjurer can also be of great help. Going without is unpleasant, tiring; if they’re left lacking for too long, they could begin to break apart. Luckily, in a place like Nashville, that sort of thing’s not too hard to find.

Their unusual build means Constructs have no need of food or drink. Don’t need to sleep, neither, but. It’s nice and replenishing, all the same. Those vessels also leave them supernaturally enduring, strong, and fast. Their physical limits are well beyond most of the locals - yeah, even the weird ones - but they do have limits, all the same. Pushing those can dangerously drain away those magical energies a Construct needs to hold onto.

As a result of their making, Constructs have a peculiar, powerful connection to the magic of this world. They’re acutely sensitive to the pull and push of those mysterious tides, and are able to feel, gut-deep, when they’re close to anywhere, anything, or anyone that “eddies” with this presence. However, they cannot sense through decent glamours, nor the possessed host bodies that the Tainted waltz around in.

Speaking of glamours, fact is, a Construct needs one, a good one, if they’re going to wander anywhere close to people. Otherwise, well. They do stand out. A charm that will fool not only sight, but touch, is tough to come by. (No sweat for the Fair Folk and their ilk, of course.) Such a lasting and thorough glamour’s got to be enchanted into a token of some kind, often a small, wearable item. So long as that’s intact, the glamour will persist. If the token is damaged, that glamour may become unpredictable, or break completely.

In theory, so long as they’re replete with magical energies, a Construct could survive indefinitely. It’s very difficult to physically damage them, their vessels bulwarked by all that craft - but it’s not impossible. Constructs may be wounded, even destroyed, but it’s a tall order. That would require an enchanted weapon or powerful spellwork, something that suits the materials the target’s made of. While most Constructs will regenerate on their own from any other sort of damage, a magical injury damn well demands magical attention.

This kind is closed to application, due to how darn rare they are. But don’t despair! If you’ve got grand plans for crafting a Construct, bring ‘em to the admins. We’re always happy to talk character ideas!