#but I learned how to say an ancient Roman carriage is in fact in a ditch
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Latin: THE CARRIAGE IS STUCK IN A DITCH (raeda in fossum est)
i’m obsessed with these…
(From DepthOfWikipedia on Instagram)
#if you're wondering why Latin was taught at my high school and middle school instead of a language that people fucking speak#I don't know either. it was not helpful and that is the only phrase I remember. I also now know a lot about ancient Roman culture.#I took Latin for 5 years. to be fair to me I still learned more than the kids who did Spanish. Pennsylvania Spanish classes are not great.#the kids who did French learned a little bit of French but the kids who did German really seemed to learn German#and they got to go to Germany every other year! we did not have the same thing for Latin club! we got to go to Penn State every year.#but at least I made friends in Latin class#even if it's a stupid fucking thing to offer to children in place of an actual fucking language#I didn't learn about the civil rights movement in high school. I didn't learn about the Vietnam war. I didn't learn how to do taxes.#but I learned how to say an ancient Roman carriage is in fact in a ditch#original#yeah it makes figuring out root words easier but you know what else would have provided that service? actually learning another language.
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History Bites: Best Royal Romances
In History Bites, I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary).
Love is one of the greatest reasons to do anything. Love will make people act strangely, become better people and level empires. In a world of arranged marriages and terrible spouses, some royals found happiness.
Antony and Cleopatra were the Ancient World's power couple. After Caesar's death, who had been Antony's mentor and the father to Cleopatra's son, Antony was sent to govern the Eastern Provinces. At Tarsus in Turkey, Cleopatra paid a visit to Antony. During the visit, Antony and Cleopatra got to know each other better and quickly things got romantic. It was not exactly the best thing for a Roman senator to have an Egyptian mistress and an odd thing for a famously intellectual Queen to take a notorious foolish hothead as her lover but the two were incredibly fond of one another. The two of them had three children, who Antony left the Roman Empire to in his will. The will was the final straw for Rome so it went to war with the couple, which ended in defeat. Antony committed suicide and Cleopatra sometime afterward.
Queen Victoria's marriage was an issue from the get go, because she needed a husband who was not her subject (because women were meant to obey their menfolk and a Queen shouldn't obey a subject) and one who was suitable. Victoria didn't like her cousin Albert when they met as teens but feel head over heels in love with him after they met again after Victoria became Queen. The two were rather smitten with each other and managed to pop out 9 kids. Victoria was distraught when Albert died and rarely wore anything but black for most of her life and rarely went out in public.
Josephine de Beauharnais was a wealthy French woman during the French Revolution which claimed the life of her first husband. Josephine caught the eye of the young Corsican soldier, Napoleon and the two quickly wed despite him being 6 years younger. Josephine was the perfect consort for Napoleon, she was an able diplomat and learned. When Napoleon was away, he often sent her raunchy letters which Josephine hilariously replied with nonchalance. Napoleon divorced Josephine because she was barren and he needed a heir. I doubt he stopped loving Josephine.
Charles II was not exactly the most monogamous of monarchs. The Merry Monarch and one of the few English Kings I think fondly of, had one declared mistress about five others. A friend of Charles saw Nell Gwyn playing on the London stage and decided to introduce her to his royal master, a wingman if you will. Nell and the King hit it off well because Nell wasn't as grasping as the other mistresses and knew how to make him laugh. She once took him fishing and when the monarch caught nothing, she tied a fried piece of fish to his line. She bore him too sons but felt as if Charles was not awarding them the right honours. When he came to visit them, she called one son over by saying "Come hither, you little bastard." Charles was angry at that but Nell reminded him that she had little else to refer to him by so Charles created a Dukedom for his sons. When Charles died, Nell remained monogamous to him telling one admirer than she would not "lay a dog where a deer that once lain."
Louis XIV was Charles's cousin and they shared a similar taste for mistresses. Madame de Montespan was married as Louis was but the two started a relationship together. Montespan was rather spoilt by Louis, earning the nickname "How much" by courtiers. Montespan and the King were together for a long period of time, having many children. A scandal came to light which involved a supposed witch and black masses where Montespan bought love potions and cursed the Queen. Montespan was lucky to avoid execution but she was dealt a personal blow: the King fell out of love with her. Montespan haunted the court as Louis moved on, keeping a bedroom for him at all times just in case he wished to visit. He never did. Louis moved on to the nanny of his bastard children by Montespan, the religious Madame de Maintenon. The two were kindred spirits and when the Queen died, Louis married Madame de Maintenon and the two lived the rest of their lives together.
Henry IV of France was married when he began a relationship with Gabrielle d'Estrees, a Catholic noblewoman during the Wars of Religion in France. Henry was increasingly fond of her despite their religious differences, even more than his wife at the time Marguerite of Valois. Gabrielle was a successful diplomat, going between the Protestant King and his Catholic nobility, smoothing relations by convincing Henry to become a Catholic. Gabrielle went to war with Henry, caring for his clothes and cooking his meals while on campaign. Henry was worried about her safety, especially when he saw bullet holes in her tent but Gabrielle refused to leave his side. Gabrielle sold her jewels to fund Henry's wars and once left the middle of a ball to rush to Henry's side. Her devotion led to Henry deciding to marry and crown her as his Queen. Gabrielle died suddenly before her wedding/coronation leaving Henry heartbroken.
Catherine the Great is on my list for worst marriages bur she found love after her husband was murdered. During her coup when she was making an important speech to rally the troops to her, a young cavalry officer named Grigory Potemkin offered her his own sword knot, a missing detail on her uniform. The two met years later and quickly fell in love. Catherine and Potemkin kept up their touching relationship throughout the wars with Turkey and Catherine's other lovers. They were incredibly close, Catherine giving him every honour and Potemkin helping her realise her dream of a navy. Potemkin died on the roadside, collapsing in front of his soldiers leaving Catherine heartbroken. It is rumoured by historians that the pair had been secretly married.
Have you ever seen bibles with King James written on the cover? Though King James was married and had sired numerous children with his wife, James had a string of noble young men as favourites, his favourite being George Villiers. James was incredibly fond of George, calling him "Steenie" after St. Stephen who canonically (no pun intended) had the face of an angel. When asked by Parliament about the close relationship, James replied that George was as close to him as Jesus was to his disciples. Though historians dispute whether they were actually gay (citing the fact that James had a wife and a loving relationship with her), it is entirely possible that James was bisexual. The two sent numerous letters to one another over the years, each rather touching
Inez de Castro is probably Portugal's most interesting Queen Consort. She was exhumed for her own coronation. Inez was the mistress of Prince Pedro and mother to his children. The King, Pedro's father, really did not want his son marrying his mistress so he had Inez murdered. Pedro was distraught at her death and hunted down the men who had done it, having their hearts torn out in revenge. He would never marry again so to make his children legitimate he had Inez exhumed and crowned Queen, forcing the nobility to kiss her hand and hail her as Queen. Nobody bothered Pedro about his kids again.
Though the film The Favourite (2017) is a skewed version of the relationship between Anne of England and Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, there is some proof to attest to the romantic relationship between the two. They knew each other from a young age and once escaped a house together to avoid the influence of Anne's father who at the time was embroiled in a battle to keep the throne against Anne's sister Mary. The two were incredibly close despite their rather differing personalities. Sarah did care for the Queen but had a habit of being quite abrasive and quick with cruel words which eventually ended the long lasting relationship between the two.
Peter I of Russia was an imposing man both in stature and in political policy. Peter dragged Russia toward Westernization and imposed radical reforms upon his country. Perhaps the greatest wave he made, was his marriage to Catherine, a laundress. Peter and Catherine were incredibly fond of each other, sharing an appetite of good living and each other. Peter did sleep about but Catherine joked about it in letters asking him whether he found any laundresses he liked. Peter fathered two daughters on Catherine but instead of handing control to them after he died he made his wife Empress Catherine I.
Perhaps my favourite royal romance story, is between Emperor Ai and his favourite Dong Xian. Emperor Ai and Dong Xian were chilling in bed together one day. Ai had to get up but Dong Xian was still asleep, laying on his sleeve. Rather than waking his lover, the Emperor cut off his own sleeve so he could get out of bed.
Emperor Hadrian is famous for his bitchin wall between Britannia and Caledonia. But Emperor Hadrian's greatest love would be the Greek Antinous. The emperor had Antonius come with him wherever he went and the two were fond of hunting and writing poetry. Antinous tragically drowned in the Nile, probably by accident but foul play cannot be ruled out.
Jeanne Antoinette Poisson or as you might know her Madame de Pompadour was told at nine years old that she would love a king. In her twenties it came true when she caught the eye of King Louis XV of France, earning her the title maîtresse-en-titre. Madame de Pompadour understood Louis in a way nobody else would. She knew how to read his emotions and knew how to keep him entertained. Though the two stopped sleeping together thanks to a medical condition Jeanne had, Louis kept her as his official mistress. Kings were not permitted to attend funerals so when Jeanne died, Louis couldn't go. He stood on his balcony in a downpour as her funeral carriage left Versailles, the only tribute he could pay the love of his life
Elizabeth Woodville's first husband was an early casualty in the Wars of the Roses, leaving her to care for two sons. Destitute, Elizabeth stood by the road to speak with the new York King of England. Edward IV was younger than her and was her enemy, yet the two fell in love and wed in secret. The court was furious at the marriage as Elizabeth was only the daughter of a baron. The marriage was extremely happy despite Edward's many mistresses and the unsettled times they lived in.
Elizabeth of York, Elizabeth Woodville's daughter, was a highly sought after bride in Europe. Henry Tudor, her uncle Richard's enemy, proposed to her from abroad declaring her would wed her in the Cathedral of Reims. Henry invaded England and won the crown at the Battle of Bosworth. He married Elizabeth and the two, despite being born enemies, lived a happy marriage together. Henry was distraught when Elizabeth died and never remarried.
Mary Tudor, the daughter of Elizabeth of York, was at one point Europe's most eligible and beautiful Princess. She was offered as a bride to the Prince of Spain and then the King of France, who she was married to. Mary was briefly Queen of France but her aged husband died soon after the wedding. Mary returned to England but she had a secret, she had hastily wed her brother's childhood friend, Charles Brandon. Henry VIII, her brother, got so cross that he fined and banished the two of them from court. But he quickly forgave them and the couple returned to court where they spent their short but happy marriage.
Elizabeth II & Prince Philip have been married for decades. The Queen was only eight when she met Philip and the two became friends, writing to each other during WWII. After WWII, Philip renounced his his Danish and Greek titles to marry Elizabeth, becoming Prince Consort and Duke of Edinburgh. Despite Philip's infamous faux pas and wild behavior, the two have a stable and loving relationship.
Edward III & Philippa of Hainault were only children when Edward's mother planned their marriage to gain the military might of Philippa's father. Their marriage was a happy one that produced 12 children. Philippa accompanied Edward to the battlefield many times.
Edward II is on my list for worst marriages but he was a romantic at heart. Edward was very close to a knight named Piers Gaveston. Edward's father didn't like this bond and sent Gaveston away. Edward's first act as king was to recall Piers and bestowed titles and land upon him like there was no tomorrow. Piers was seen as a bad influence and because of this he was killed by a group of rebelling nobles. Edward grieved for years and eventually went on a revenge war against the nobles who had killed his lover.
Despite being Nazi-Sympathizing assholes, no one could doubt that Wallis Simpson and Edward VIII did truly love one another. Edward was King and Wallis was an American divorcee (sound familiar?), and there were laws starting that he could not marry a divorcee. But Edward couldn't give her up do he gave up his throne for her and the two went off to live in France together.
Tsar Nicholas II and Empress Alexandra (then Princess Alix of Hesse) were never meant to be married. Alexandra's grandmother Queen Victoria did not approve of the autocracy of Russia and would have preferred that she marry into England. Alexandra herself dithered on whether to marry Nicholas as it meant a change in religion for her. In the end, the two decided to wed and they had a relatively close marriage. Some of their letters still survive.
#History Bites#best royal romances#writing#writing resources#writing reference#writing advice#writeblr#writer#writer's problems#spilled words#writer's life#characters#louis xiv#Charles ii#mary rose tudor#Elizabeth II#anne I of England#Catherine ii#Catherine I#Emperor ai#wallis Simpson#Emperor Hadrian#lgbt+ History#love#Madame de montespan#nell gwyn#george villiers
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No Electricity, No Problem: This Oregon Grower Is Resurrecting Ancient Roman Winemaking Techniques
Brad Ford, the winemaker at Oregon’s Illahe Vineyards, is always tinkering with something interesting — a wine press rescued from a junkyard, a horse-drawn mower he engineered himself, amphorae he created from scratch. The need to make or restore his own tools has been driven out of financial necessity at times, as is the case for many small wineries. But it also fulfills his desire to explore every aspect of the art, science, and mystery of his profession.
In the lull provided by the Covid-19 outbreak, Ford has embarked on his biggest project yet: building a beam-style wine press similar to the one the Roman scholar Cato wrote about in “De Agri Cultura.” When finished, he expects the 1-ton, 60-foot press will be the longest in the United States.
Credit: Sophia McDonald Bennett
The 19th Century Reimagined
Ford’s father was a hobby grape grower who began operating a vineyard professionally in 2000. Ford became the winemaker at his dad’s company about six years into the new venture and now runs all the day-to-day operations. Although he attended the wine studies program at nearby Chemeketa Community College to learn the most modern information about winemaking, he felt himself drawn to the history of farming and enology. Early on, he began to experiment with more traditional approaches to creating wine.
To begin with, he bought two draft horses, Doc and Bea, to work on the property. The team cuts the vineyard’s cover crop and transports some of the fruit during harvest. Their role is limited by the fact that teamsters are in short supply today, so Ford is the only one who knows how to drive them. Even if horses aren’t the most efficient way to farm, Ford is committed to the method. “It is really enjoyable to be around horses,” he says. “It’s way more enjoyable to be working with animals than with tractors. You get a huge human benefit out of a lifestyle that’s more ancient and natural.”
Doc and Bea also play a crucial role in one of Ford’s signature wines, the 1899 Pinot Noir. Most years he makes eight to 12 barrels of wine without the aid of electricity, stainless steel, or other conveniences invented after 1900. The grapes for the wine come from a 1-acre block that is harvested exclusively with the horses. The fruit is de-stemmed with a bicycle-powered machine, pressed in a wooden basket press, fermented with natural yeast in a wooden vat, and pumped into barrels with a bicycle-powered pump.
Even transporting the wine to Illahe’s Portland-based distributor is typically done without the aid of electricity. The boxes are moved off the property by horse and loaded into a stagecoach that delivers the wine to the nearby Willamette River. There, it’s placed in a canoe. Ford and two others spend three days paddling to Oregon City, where the boxes are transferred to a bicycle for the final leg of their journey.
While that final piece has more to do with Ford’s desire to be true to his experiment, he says he’s learned a tremendous amount about winemaking through the 1899 project, including how to work with the native yeast that he now uses exclusively in all of his reds.
“Science is one way to go about things and I love science,” Ford says. And he has no objection to using modern knowledge to help the vineyards stay healthy or remove flaws from wine. But the best foods aren’t the ones that are highly processed or made in a lab, and he believes the same is true for wine.
“Every experiment we’re doing is moving us forward to more historical winemaking than modern, scientific winemaking, and more natural winemaking,” he says. “It just produces the best wines.”
Credit: Sophia McDonald Bennett
Remaking Cato’s Wine Press
The extreme end of Ford’s desire to return to old-school winemaking is his latest project: a beam-style wine press that will be 60 feet long when it is finished. Millennia before today’s electric presses were invented, Cato and other winemakers juiced their grapes by lowering a heavy object such as a beam onto a wooden basket full of grapes. The next innovation was a screw press, which allowed people to twist one or more handles to apply force to the basket.
Ford had seen a hand-carved wooden screw press at Château du Clos de Vougeot in Burgundy. “It’s one of the things I really remember from that visit,” he said. “The wine is something I remember quite a bit, too, but coming to a place and seeing that press was an important experience for me. So if we can recreate a little bit of that experience, I’d like it.”
Despite his fascination with the Burgundian screw press, Ford decided that Cato’s beam press would be easier to build. He also knew it would be more authentic than what he was currently doing with the 1899: moving the pistons on a modern-day basket press with hydraulic auto jacks that two people had to pump by hand. (“They’re filled with hydraulic oil. Did the Romans have that? No. But are they electrical? No.”)
Ford’s closest friend is Erik Jensen, a physics instructor at Chemeketa Community College. Ford asked him how big a beam he would need to operate a basket press that could handle his current grape production. “He did his math and said it needed to be 60 feet long. He’s since retracted it but it’s too late because now I’m building the thing.”
To begin the press, he cut down a dying 130-foot Douglas fir tree on his property. He called a local lumber mill to see if they could transform it into the beam. The answer was a resounding no. Log trucks can only move trees up to 50 feet, and most mills can’t handle one longer than 24 feet. “I said, ‘What would you do if you were trying to build a big beam that’s 60 feet long?’ and they said, ‘I’d use a chainsaw,’” Ford said. His next stop was the local logging store.
It took a 7-ton excavator to stand the tree up on two smaller logs so he could cut it to size. Ford built a carriage for the chainsaw that runs along a 2-foot-by-8-foot length of timber attached to the top, and is using a string line to trim off the curved sides of the log. When finished, the beam will be 14 inches wide at the narrowest end and 2 feet on the opposite side. (The cut-offs from the log will likely go to the tasting room, where they’ll be finished and turned into tables.)
At some point, Ford will also build a wheel that can be connected to the beam with a rope, then cranked to lower or raise the beam manually. It will operate a press about 6 feet wide, which will give Ford about four times more pressing capacity than he has now. It will also work faster; given the beam’s incredible weight, the press cycle should only take about an hour.
The disruption caused by the Covid-19 outbreak has given Ford extra time to work on projects around the winery. He hopes to have the beam cut and moved to the exterior alcove where the presses are located later this year. It will take years to fully finish it. “If we really like it, we’ll build it a little house,” Ford says fondly, looking at the log. “It will be so fun for people to go outside and have a glass of wine and see the press.”
He acknowledged that building this modern wonder makes no economic sense. “You can easily buy something so much faster that already works and that’s controlled by a computer and that does a great job of pressing the wine,” he says. “But it’s so much less fun to just buy a brand new press.”
It also wouldn’t teach him anything about winemaking. As he stands in the clearing where the log is undergoing its transformation, Ford talks about the Japanese craftsmen who adopt an art form at a young age and spend the rest of their lives refining their skills and understanding their art. “They make their own tools,” he points out. “You make your own knife, you make your own saw, you make your own pots or whatever you’re going to use for your craft. You have your tools and you know those tools are always sharp and those tools are the ones you need for the job.”
A beam may be slightly bigger than a carving knife, but Ford believes it will help him further shape and hone the medium he’s dedicated his life to.
The article No Electricity, No Problem: This Oregon Grower Is Resurrecting Ancient Roman Winemaking Techniques appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/oregon-grower-ancient-roman-winemaking/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/624084776416100352
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No Electricity No Problem: This Oregon Grower Is Resurrecting Ancient Roman Winemaking Techniques
Brad Ford, the winemaker at Oregon’s Illahe Vineyards, is always tinkering with something interesting — a wine press rescued from a junkyard, a horse-drawn mower he engineered himself, amphorae he created from scratch. The need to make or restore his own tools has been driven out of financial necessity at times, as is the case for many small wineries. But it also fulfills his desire to explore every aspect of the art, science, and mystery of his profession.
In the lull provided by the Covid-19 outbreak, Ford has embarked on his biggest project yet: building a beam-style wine press similar to the one the Roman scholar Cato wrote about in “De Agri Cultura.” When finished, he expects the 1-ton, 60-foot press will be the longest in the United States.
Credit: Sophia McDonald Bennett
The 19th Century Reimagined
Ford’s father was a hobby grape grower who began operating a vineyard professionally in 2000. Ford became the winemaker at his dad’s company about six years into the new venture and now runs all the day-to-day operations. Although he attended the wine studies program at nearby Chemeketa Community College to learn the most modern information about winemaking, he felt himself drawn to the history of farming and enology. Early on, he began to experiment with more traditional approaches to creating wine.
To begin with, he bought two draft horses, Doc and Bea, to work on the property. The team cuts the vineyard’s cover crop and transports some of the fruit during harvest. Their role is limited by the fact that teamsters are in short supply today, so Ford is the only one who knows how to drive them. Even if horses aren’t the most efficient way to farm, Ford is committed to the method. “It is really enjoyable to be around horses,” he says. “It’s way more enjoyable to be working with animals than with tractors. You get a huge human benefit out of a lifestyle that’s more ancient and natural.”
Doc and Bea also play a crucial role in one of Ford’s signature wines, the 1899 Pinot Noir. Most years he makes eight to 12 barrels of wine without the aid of electricity, stainless steel, or other conveniences invented after 1900. The grapes for the wine come from a 1-acre block that is harvested exclusively with the horses. The fruit is de-stemmed with a bicycle-powered machine, pressed in a wooden basket press, fermented with natural yeast in a wooden vat, and pumped into barrels with a bicycle-powered pump.
Even transporting the wine to Illahe’s Portland-based distributor is typically done without the aid of electricity. The boxes are moved off the property by horse and loaded into a stagecoach that delivers the wine to the nearby Willamette River. There, it’s placed in a canoe. Ford and two others spend three days paddling to Oregon City, where the boxes are transferred to a bicycle for the final leg of their journey.
While that final piece has more to do with Ford’s desire to be true to his experiment, he says he’s learned a tremendous amount about winemaking through the 1899 project, including how to work with the native yeast that he now uses exclusively in all of his reds.
“Science is one way to go about things and I love science,” Ford says. And he has no objection to using modern knowledge to help the vineyards stay healthy or remove flaws from wine. But the best foods aren’t the ones that are highly processed or made in a lab, and he believes the same is true for wine.
“Every experiment we’re doing is moving us forward to more historical winemaking than modern, scientific winemaking, and more natural winemaking,” he says. “It just produces the best wines.”
Credit: Sophia McDonald Bennett
Remaking Cato’s Wine Press
The extreme end of Ford’s desire to return to old-school winemaking is his latest project: a beam-style wine press that will be 60 feet long when it is finished. Millennia before today’s electric presses were invented, Cato and other winemakers juiced their grapes by lowering a heavy object such as a beam onto a wooden basket full of grapes. The next innovation was a screw press, which allowed people to twist one or more handles to apply force to the basket.
Ford had seen a hand-carved wooden screw press at Château du Clos de Vougeot in Burgundy. “It’s one of the things I really remember from that visit,” he said. “The wine is something I remember quite a bit, too, but coming to a place and seeing that press was an important experience for me. So if we can recreate a little bit of that experience, I’d like it.”
Despite his fascination with the Burgundian screw press, Ford decided that Cato’s beam press would be easier to build. He also knew it would be more authentic than what he was currently doing with the 1899: moving the pistons on a modern-day basket press with hydraulic auto jacks that two people had to pump by hand. (“They’re filled with hydraulic oil. Did the Romans have that? No. But are they electrical? No.”)
Ford’s closest friend is Erik Jensen, a physics instructor at Chemeketa Community College. Ford asked him how big a beam he would need to operate a basket press that could handle his current grape production. “He did his math and said it needed to be 60 feet long. He’s since retracted it but it’s too late because now I’m building the thing.”
To begin the press, he cut down a dying 130-foot Douglas fir tree on his property. He called a local lumber mill to see if they could transform it into the beam. The answer was a resounding no. Log trucks can only move trees up to 50 feet, and most mills can’t handle one longer than 24 feet. “I said, ‘What would you do if you were trying to build a big beam that’s 60 feet long?’ and they said, ‘I’d use a chainsaw,’” Ford said. His next stop was the local logging store.
It took a 7-ton excavator to stand the tree up on two smaller logs so he could cut it to size. Ford built a carriage for the chainsaw that runs along a 2-foot-by-8-foot length of timber attached to the top, and is using a string line to trim off the curved sides of the log. When finished, the beam will be 14 inches wide at the narrowest end and 2 feet on the opposite side. (The cut-offs from the log will likely go to the tasting room, where they’ll be finished and turned into tables.)
At some point, Ford will also build a wheel that can be connected to the beam with a rope, then cranked to lower or raise the beam manually. It will operate a press about 6 feet wide, which will give Ford about four times more pressing capacity than he has now. It will also work faster; given the beam’s incredible weight, the press cycle should only take about an hour.
The disruption caused by the Covid-19 outbreak has given Ford extra time to work on projects around the winery. He hopes to have the beam cut and moved to the exterior alcove where the presses are located later this year. It will take years to fully finish it. “If we really like it, we’ll build it a little house,” Ford says fondly, looking at the log. “It will be so fun for people to go outside and have a glass of wine and see the press.”
He acknowledged that building this modern wonder makes no economic sense. “You can easily buy something so much faster that already works and that’s controlled by a computer and that does a great job of pressing the wine,” he says. “But it’s so much less fun to just buy a brand new press.”
It also wouldn’t teach him anything about winemaking. As he stands in the clearing where the log is undergoing its transformation, Ford talks about the Japanese craftsmen who adopt an art form at a young age and spend the rest of their lives refining their skills and understanding their art. “They make their own tools,” he points out. “You make your own knife, you make your own saw, you make your own pots or whatever you’re going to use for your craft. You have your tools and you know those tools are always sharp and those tools are the ones you need for the job.”
A beam may be slightly bigger than a carving knife, but Ford believes it will help him further shape and hone the medium he’s dedicated his life to.
The article No Electricity, No Problem: This Oregon Grower Is Resurrecting Ancient Roman Winemaking Techniques appeared first on VinePair.
Via https://vinepair.com/articles/oregon-grower-ancient-roman-winemaking/
source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/no-electricity-no-problem-this-oregon-grower-is-resurrecting-ancient-roman-winemaking-techniques
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16 Best Things To Do In York
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York is one of those beautiful English cities that’s incredible to visit. Filled with mountains of history, that warm Yorkshire charm and oodles of foodie haunts, there are literally hundreds of the best things to do in York dotted all across the city. It’s totally quaint and a city you can’t miss in England.
That being said, with so many spots to explore, it can often be proper hard to prioritise some of the very best things to do in York. After all, a trip to the city should be filled with as many of the coolest and best places as possible.
After heading to York on a Microgap (you know, like a mini Gap Year), I wanted to share some of our very favourite little spots that I hope you’ll love.
Take a look, below, at some of the very best things to do in York on your trip. Have the best time!
1.) Climb York Minster
Okay, so no visit to York is really complete without seeing its most iconic building, York Minster. Built well over 500 years ago, it’s one of the largest and most beautiful buildings to visit in all of Yorkshire.
Now, you can obviously admire the beauty of York Minster from the surroundings, but if you want a closer look, head inside and explore the awe-inspiring interiors.
Now, heads up, you will need to pay a fee to enter, but you can save a pretty penny if you purchase a York Pass that allows entry to lots of the main sites in the city. It’s easily one of the best things to do in York and totally impressive.
Also, if you’re looking for a little bit of a challenge, ask at the ticketing counter to climb the tower itself. Yup, it’s just under 300 steps but it’s well worth it for view all across the city.
Just be prepared for some very cosy alleys and stairwells.
Read more: Climbing York Minster
2.) Wander The Shambles
Okay, so The Shambles is an area of York that you really can’t miss. It’s easily one of the prettiest streets in all of England and is considered one of the best surviving Medieval Streets in all of the UK.
Honestly, it’s the kind of street that feels like it’s come straight out of a Harry Potter book – it’s so picturesque.
Now, historically, The Shambles was an area where lots of meat was sold, with all the meat waste discarded in the tiny cobbled street. The streets are proper tiny so I can only imagine how smelly that was.
Thankfully, nowadays, The Shambles is filled with little craft stalls, jewellers, tea spots and, more recently, some wizardry shops. Make sure to spend a little time wandering, popping into the little stalls and exploring the nearby markets. It really is one of the best things to do in York.
Also, don’t forget to spend some time exploring the tiny little Snickelways that crisscross York, there like a web of medieval pedestrian routes that make the city so accessible by foot.
Read more: Visiting The Shambles
3.) Learn to ride a boat
So, if your legs are getting a little weary, pop over to the riverside and rent your very own boat from Red Boats York. After a little safety demonstration (and instructions), you’ll set off on your exploration of the river – all by yourself!
Spend an hour, navigating the waterways and firming up those skills as a sea-faring captain. It’s easily one of the best things to do in York and much easier than I thought.
Read more: Sailing the river in York
4.) Drink up at Guy Fawkes Inn
Possibly, one of York’s most famous residents has to be Guy Fawkes?
Now, he’s the guy that tried to blow up Parliament way back in the 1600s and overthrow the government. After filling the cellars of the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder, he was caught before setting it alight.
Obviously, the English government didn’t take too kindly to this and Guy Fawkes was swiftly hung, drawn and quartered. Each quarter of this body was then taken to the four corners of the country to deter any other would-be attempts.
Once you’re in York, head across to the Guy Fawkes Inn (where he lived), it’s a matter of seconds from York Minster and really easy to visit. Pop in for a pint of ale or a Yorkshire tea. It really is one of the best things to do in York if you want to briefly see a little piece of history.
5.) Gorge at Roots
So, I’ve no shame in saying that one of the best things to do in York is to gorge!
Honestly, it’s one of my favourite places in England for cute little restaurants and snugs that are nestled all across the city.
Now, one place you have to try is Roots, which is totally delicious. Here, the team work on a 3-season menu that focuses on locally sourced produce and seasonal variety.
Just make sure to book a table before you visit, it can get busy (especially on weekends).
Read more: Our visit to Roots
6.) Visit Mr P’s Curious Tavern
Remember I mentioned food being amazing in York? Well, Mr P’s Curious Tavern is no exception.
Only around a five-minute stroll from The Shambles, it’s a gouges spot to visit for lunch or dinner. Once you’re here, make sure to try their Whitby Crab, it’s so good!
Read more: Our visit to Mr P’s Curious Tavern
7.) Visit the York Art Gallery
Perched just off the city walls, the Art Gallery is one of the best things to do in York if you want to see local and international art in one place.
Once here, make sure to explore their temporary exhibitions, explore their massive pottery section and stroll through the main hall. It really is a great place to visit, especially if the weather starts to drizzle.
8.) Walk the City Walls
With a hoard of history (from Roman, Norman and Viking occupation), York is a city that’s best explored by foot.
Best of all, the majority of York’s ancient city walls still exist, lining the centre of the city. Plus, it’s one of the only cities in the UK that still has a standing wall with the original gateways to enter the ancient centre.
If you’re feeling eager, you can actually walk the wall themselves and explore the city limits. For me, it’s one of the best things to do in York and really takes you back to what a medieval York must have been like.
9.) Visit the Castle Museum
So, after taking a ride on the river, or climbing Clifford’s Tower (all close by), make sure to pop over to the Castle Museum that used to be a prison, too.
At first glance, I wasn’t too bothered about visiting and kind of went in with low expectations… How wrong I was! It’s amazing.
Once inside, you get to explore the medieval streets of York in mock-up of the city itself. It’s filled with everything from houses, streets, alleyways and Temperance Halls. It’s well worth spending a little time to explore the history of York and even learn more about the city itself.
Read more: Visiting Castle Museum York
10.) Climb Clifford’s Tower
Perched on its own mount, Clifford’s Tower is part of the complex of buildings that make up York Castle.
Once here, head up the mount and enter the Medieval tower to explore the tower from above. Once inside, pop up to the top of Clifford’s Towers (around 40 steps) and survey York from above.
11.) Eat up at Skosh
Another amazing place to eat at in York has to be Skosh! It’s a fusion restaurant that has a heap of amazing dishes that mixes Yorkshire produce and international tastes.
Skosh is almost like a Tapas bar in the fact you can order around 3-4 dishes each and just share between the table. Plus, the food is delicious!
Now, if you do intend on popping by, make sure to give them a call as table space is limited.
Read more: Eating at Skosh
12.) Stay at Grey’s Court
If you’re planning a weekend trip to York, there’s no doubt you’ll need a place to rest your head. For us, we decided upon Grey’s Court Hotel that’s so quaint and historic. Smack in the city centre, it is perched as close to York Minter as you could possibly get.
Now, Grey’s Court Hotel has a few different rooms and we decided upon Somerset that had the best view overlooking York Minster itself. Oh, and don’t forget to opt in for breakfast, they smoke their own salmon each night. Yum!
For a little nightcap, pop over to the House of Trembling Madness for one of their local brews.
13.) Afternoon tea at the Countess of York
So, if you’re looking for a different afternoon tea, pop over to the Countess of York (at the National Railway Museum). Perched around 5-minutes from York Central Station, it’s really easy to visit if you’re short on time.
Now, the carriage used to be part of the Orient Express and it’s so sumptuous inside. Fill up on plenty of scones, clotted cream and plenty of Yorkshire tea.
Afterwards, set aside a little time to explore the National Railway Museum too. If you’re a train lover, you’ll find this one of the best things to do in York! That being said, if you’re not into trains, maybe just focus on that afternoon tea. After all, that cake won’t eat itself!
Read more: The Countess of York afternoon tea
14.) Merchant Adventurers Hall
Nestled in the heart of the city is one of York’s prettiest halls, the Merchant Adventurers Hall that’s steeped in history.
Dating back centuries, you can still head inside and explore the incredible halls, it’s rooms and learn more about the Merchants. It’s a beautiful building that’ll totally sweep you straight back in time. Plus, if history is your thing, you’ll easily find this one of the best things to do in York.
15.) St Mary’s Abbey (Museum Gardens)
Before the time of Henry VIII, St Mary’s Abbey used to be the most significant abbey in the north of England. That being said, after Henry VIII decided to dissolve the monasteries, many of the incredible buildings fell into disrepair and ruins.
Nowadays, you can still visit the ruins of this incredible building that’s in the Museum Gardens. Take a wander around the site, learn more about the Abbey history and stroll through the gardens themselves.
It’s certainly one of the best things to do in York if you’re interested in the medieval history of the city.
16.) Jorvik Viking Centre
As I mentioned, York has a deep connection to Vikings and a city that was once a stronghold for Vikings in England.
Now, you might not see too many Viking warriors roaming the streets but you can certainly pop into the Jorvik Viking Centre that focuses on the history of Vikings in York.
It’s a great little place to visit and the exhibits look so lifelike! Now, as it’s all indoors, I’d recommend saving the Jorvik Viking Centre for a rainy day. After all, the English weather is temperamental at best!
Read more: Prettiest Places to visit in England
The 19 Prettiest And Best Places To Visit In England
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from The Otis Dyke Lifestyle Blog https://www.otisdyke.co.uk/16-best-things-to-do-in-york/
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BOLLOCKS is a good old-fashioned English word
Bollocks is a good old Anglo-Saxon word of Germanic origin, which is nowadays used mainly as a relatively mild swearword but technically just means ‘testicles’ (see also avocado, knacker). In both senses of the word, it somehow only sounds correct when said with a British accent. Perhaps surprisingly, the word appears in John Wycliffe’s 1382 translation of the Bible, in which we learn that: ‘Al beeste that kitt and taken a wey the ballokes is, ye shulen not offre to the Lord.’ Which translates into modern English as: ‘Any beast that has had its bollocks taken away should not be offered as a sacrifice to the Lord.’ By the eighteenth century, ‘bollocks’ and its close cousin ‘ballocks’ had somehow become slang terms for ‘clergyman’, suggesting that what some of them preached from the pulpit perhaps led to the nickname. One of the most versatile old words in the English language, ‘bollocks’ can also be used as an expression of dismay or frustration – ‘Oh, bollocks’ – or a term of appreciation: ‘That really is the bollocks.’ The word’s most exciting role in its very long history, however, was at the centre of a notorious court case in relatively recent times. In 1977, the Sex Pistols ruffled a few establishment feathers with the release of their debut punk rock album, Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. The band and the manager of a Nottingham record shop who had dared to display the album in his window were immediately sued. The high-profile defence lawyer John Mortimer QC, creator of Rumpole of the Bailey, successfully demonstrated that the word ‘bollocks’ had for centuries been in common use as slang for a ‘priest’, and that it usually simply meant ‘nonsense’. The court was forced to publicly concede that the word was not to be considered obscene. Although admittedly other words for ‘nonsense’ may not have had quite the same ring. Bloomers are a big old pair of lady’s pants that are worn more for comfort than for sex appeal, especially the baggy ones. But, believe it or not, there was a time when a pair of bloomers was considered high fashion. Bloomers were invented in the mid-nineteenth century by Elizabeth Smith Miller (1822–1911) of New York state, with the intention of preserving a lady’s modesty while engaged in activities such as horse riding and cycling. Worn below the skirt, these pantaloons were long baggy pants, based on traditional Turkish trousers, which narrowed to a cuff at the ankle. They took a while to catch on and were widely ridiculed by the press, although when prominent women’s rights campaigner Amelia Jenks Bloomer (1818–94) started wearing them in the early 1850s, bloomers – as they became known after she enthused about them in her magazine The Lily – grew in popularity. On a related note, the Suffragettes took their name from the word ‘suffrage’, ‘the right to vote’, which comes from the Latin suffragium, ‘voting tablet’. The history of the word barracking and indeed its definition have become confused over the years, which is hardly surprising since both Australia and Northern Ireland stake a claim to it. We in the civilised English-speaking world understand the word ‘barrack’ to mean ‘jeer’ or ‘make rude comments in an attempt to interrupt’, but in the land down under, where the word actually originated in the 1870s, it means the exact opposite: ‘to cheer and support’. The story goes that, in the mid-nineteenth century, supporters of the Victoria Barracks team at South Melbourne Cricket Ground would be greeted with howls and jeers of ‘Here come the barrackers’ by opposition supporters. It would seem that Australian sports fans regarded heckling the opposition as a show of support for their own team, which is how ‘barrack’ ended up meaning quite the opposite down under to what it does here, where barracking the opposition is just plain old barracking the opposition. A separate Australian-based suggestion for the etymology of ‘barrack’ is that it comes from the aborigine barak, ‘banter’, although the first recorded use of the word in print is in the sense of ‘jeering and interrupting’. In a popular 1878 publication called The Pilgrim: A Sensational Weekly Pamphlet, printed in Sydney, we find: ‘Douglas mumbled over a petition for the edification of the assembled roughs and larrikins, but was greeted with noisy insults and cries of “cheese your barracking and shut up”.’ (Larrikin – or ‘little Larry’ – incidentally, used to mean ‘mischievous youth’ in Australia and New Zealand, but has since taken on the meaning of thug.) Meanwhile, in Northern Irish dialect, ‘to barrack’ is ‘to brag’, which is close enough to the modern meaning to be a credible alternative. Rigmarole, denoting a tediously complex procedure, is an unusual-sounding word from the mid-eighteenth century, while the origin of the term goes back well over 700 years. It dates to 1296, when the Scottish noblemen signed deeds of loyalty to King Edward I of England. They all fixed their seals to the deeds, which collectively became known as the Ragman Roll or Ragman’s Roll, either in reference to the ribbons (or ‘rags’) attached to some of the seals or to an earlier census collector called Rageman or Ragemund. Around the same time, ragman was a slang word for the devil (see ragamuffin), which may well have been the Scots’ nickname for the hated English king. Either way, there is little doubt that the process of getting the Scots to sign deeds of loyalty to England, and subsequently having to assemble the deeds into one forty-foot-long document for the king, was quite some rigmarole. I have often wondered why we call a level of a building a storey when it has nothing to do with the telling of tales, so I was interested to stumble across an explanation that links the two. ‘Story’, of course, means a ‘narrative of fictitious events’, and it is derived from the ancient Greek historia, ‘account of events’. Historia is also the root of our ‘history’, meaning ‘factual account’, from which we can infer that the difference between ‘history’ and ‘story’ is the difference between fact and fiction. Following this so far? Now for the tricky bit. Back in the fourteenth century, before the Caxton printing press changed everything, the word ‘story’ was used in architecture in the sense that stained-glass windows and stone carvings or sculptures on the outsides of buildings carried stories in their theme. The more rows of pictures on a building, the more stories it was able to tell. This kind of architectural story gradually developed into the more mundane ‘storey’ of modern times: an entire level of a building. I’m glad I found that out, as I can now view my local multi-storey car park with a whole new respect. To ride roughshod over someone is to treat them harshly and without consideration for their feelings. Horses that are roughshod have the nails protruding from their shoes, something that used to be done deliberately in order to provide extra grip in wet or icy conditions. But to be trampled on or kicked by a roughshod horse is a little uncomfortable, to say the least. In the eighteenth century, it was common for cavalry soldiers from many countries to ensure their horses were roughshod or had other sharp objects attached to their hoofs, the idea being that the horses would cut and damage enemy mounts with their sharp shoes. The practice ultimately resulted in horses doing more damage to themselves than to others, and it was quickly phased out. A horse that is cantering is moving at a speed somewhere between a trot and a gallop. And the word is only ever used in association with horses; dogs and cats never canter, and neither do lions and elephants. When the Anglo-Saxons invaded the southern part of England in the fifth century, taking over cities and towns previously occupied by the retreating Roman Empire, they gave the major town of Durovernum Cantiacorum a new name, Cantwaraburg, which meant ‘the town of the men of Kent’. It has since become known as Canterbury. Kent switched from paganism to Christianity at the end of the sixth century, largely thanks to a Benedictine monk called Augustine (later St Augustine), who had been sent over by Pope Gregory I for that very purpose, and Canterbury’s place as the seat of the Christian church in England was established. (There is a point to all of this, I promise.) A few centuries later, in 1170, Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas à Becket was hacked to death at the altar of Canterbury Cathedral by four renegade knights from Henry II’s court, who had supposedly taken the king’s throwaway comment ‘Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?’ quite literally. The cathedral became a shrine to the holy martyr almost immediately, with pilgrims travelling from all over England to visit the scene of the crime. One of the most famous pilgrimages to Canterbury, of course, is documented in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, written at the end of the fourteenth century. The relaxed pace suitable for long-distance riding that would have been adopted by the Wife of Bath, the Knight and the many other real-life pilgrims later became known as a ‘Canterbury gallop’. The Sport of Kings (horse racing to you and me) became incredibly popular in Britain in the early eighteenth century, by which stage ‘Canterbury gallop’ was an established phrase. It was used outside the sport – carriage drivers, for instance, always travelled at a Canterbury gallop – but within the horse-racing community the expression was gradually abbreviated to ‘Canterbury’ and then ‘canter’, the word we still use today. I doubt this is quite what Pope Gregory I had in mind, however, when he sent Augustine over to Kent. The thoroughbred horses that are nowadays used in racing are cross-breeds of English mares and Arab horses imported to England around the turn of the eighteenth century. At the same time as horse racing was growing popular in England, it was also becoming something of a national pastime in Ireland, and the first steeplechase – literally a race from one church to another – was arranged in County Cork in 1752. The race was the result of a wager between Cornelius O’Callaghan and Edmund Blake as to which man owned the better horse, and it was run cross-country over the four miles between Buttevant and Doneraile. The modern steeplechase course has fences, ditches and other obstacles scattered along it to make it appear ‘cross-country’, but it doesn’t replicate what supposedly happened at the end of the very first race: the winner rode straight into the church at Doneraile and down the aisle, just as the vicar was holding a funeral service. – Albert Jack Albert Jack AUDIOBOOKS available for download here
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