Life is like a bundle of Grapes

 When I was just a young Padawan, I spent many hours picking grapes for the delightful wine my dad would spend hours making. Although I didn't think it was tasty at the time as I was just a kid and not aware of such delights. I sure did love picking grapes though. It was so thrilling to see a bundle way up high in a tree and having to be lifted up in the tractor platform to get the perfect, juicy grapes. Once you were up high you could see how many perfect bundles were up there just waiting to be discovered! It was like finding a gold mine! We would pick so many that our hands would turn bright purples and reds and we would joke that it looked like we killed someone. You know, normal family stuff. The family that murders together stays together and all that. We would fill grocery bag upon grocery bag piled high with the grapes that nature provided. It's amazing how many wild grapes grow out here on the farm fence lines. We would return to the farm elated with our haul and sore arms from reaching above our heads for hours to pick the best grapes. There are a few lessons picking grapes has taught me besides the fact that it makes the best damn wine my dad can make. I should be having a glass right now but I'm settling for a hot cup of tea because I'm being "healthy". Don't tell anyone how much honey I put in it...

You know when your parents tell you not to do something, but as an all knowing kid, you do it anyway? Yes, this is one of THOSE moments. Whitney and I would often compete in, well everything, but in this case- who could pick the biggest bundle of grapes. They always looked soooooooo yummy. But if you know anything about wild grapes, it's that they aren't your typical concord grape. These are super tart but also a little bitter. No matter how much mom and dad told us we wouldn't like the taste, we always tried them anyway.  Occasionally one was alright. They would hit your tongue and make you sputter and then there was a pit the size of Kansas in there that always seemed to wedge itself perfectly in your molar. The effort was never worth it, but man did we try. Now picture that same experience but this time you decide to eat the really little green ones. They were so sour and bitter, it would make you gag. We loved to dare each other to eat those. My cheeks pucker just thinking about it!

 I can relate many experiences in my life where something looked so tempting and perfect that I couldn't contain myself. No matter what anyone older or wiser said, I just had to try it. I remember fondly the time in college when I roommate and I decided to take a puff of a cigarette because everyone was doing it and I wanted to see what it was all about. I know! Every parents' worst fear! The horror! Get over it. I went to an all girls college-we had to be crazy occasionally. My Catholic virginity was safe. Even though my mom always said they were terrible and awful, I still just HADDDDD to give it a try! And was she ever right. It was awful. I coughed for about 20 minutes straight which in turn gave me an epic migraine, chest pain and then a sleepless night. Anything that makes me lose sleep, I deem evil. I haven't touched one since. I sure liked learning the hard way. It was just like a big juicy, bitter ass, evil grape. My hands didn't even turn purple and murdery from it. Lame.

The next lesson I learned was about sharing. I  know-sounds tacky, hang tight. Remember the gold mine off a million delightful grape bundles? We would want to sit there and pick the grape vine clean of every last grape, but then mom would come in all christen-like and say "Leave some for the birdies because they need something to eat too". I always thought that was stupid as a kid. Why would we leave some for them when we should pick them all for us!? She would always go on with the importance of sharing and how we aren't the only ones that need what nature provides. (Especially since ours was for booze!) And she was right. The birds did always come for grapes too. But more than anything, we always had more than enough for ourselves. Had we picked all the trees clean, there wouldn't have been enough room in Kelly's wine rack for all the bottles. Sharing is Caring after all! It reminds me of when I was little girl and they split a 4-H class up for the little and big kids because there were so many people entered in it. But there was only one trophy. I won the little kid class but was bummed out because there was no trophy for me. As a kid-that's basically the end of the world. The older girl who won the other half of the class gave me her trophy. This was life altering to 8 year old Ali. She told the ribbon people to leave it for me. She had other classes she had won and had those trophies and knew how important this one was for me. It was just another trophy to her but she knew to a little girl, it was such a big deal. She shared in a way that was so simple yet so important to a little girl's confidence. I have never forgotten that day or that girls kindness and generosity. She could have walked off with it without looking back, but she didn't it. She left it for me, the little birdy. 

I guess grape picking taught me a lot of good things. It also gave me a paralyzing fear of heights and motion sickness from riding the tractor platform. You win some you lose some. I like to think I've grown in maturity since then. I try to listen to people who have gone before me and I work so hard to be generous and kind with what I have, though I don't always manage it. I hopefully still have many years left to improve upon my flaws.

 In turns out that sometimes I'm the girl sharing the trophy and leaving things for the birdies, and other times I'm still the naughty little girl eating bitter grapes with murdery hands and puckered lips wishing I had listened to mom. Even so, I bet I can still find a bigger grape bundle than Whitney!