+61 2 6362 5631
Quality cool climate wine from the Orange wine growing region in New South Wales, Australia
Apparently there are television programmes in which people dance. When we innocently announced to two visitors to the cellar door that we hadn't seen any of them, this was the result. The cellar door furniture was re-arranged and off they went. And it was energetically charming. I do hope pig sticking remains off mainstream media.
Some people visit us at Bloodwood and bring enlightenment and joy in to our lives.
They appear irregularly and, often without our asking, solve annoying problems which have been bugging us in the interim. We don't usually understand that they have been bugging us to any great extent, and we certainly have absolutely no idea of how important it always is to fix them immediately, but it is patiently explained to us that, apparently, the interim is a painful place for any problem to bug one, and so it is always a huge relief when these systemic problems are, without complaint, investigated, assessed and as often as not, completely cured.
And then there's Brian. He became a firm friend of Bloodwood at about the time the first real problem appeared, and he's been here when needed to fix them, almost as they appear, ever since. His latest bit of investigation centres around the relationship between the temperature of the Bloodwood sheep yoghurt and raspberry ice cream you eat and the possible effect this has on post-menopausal folicle growth in an outdoor setting whilst wearing a gun holster. We will publish the results in the Bloodwood Bible as soon as they become generally available.
Broadsheets still have a use
Attention - this is not a holden..and it doesn't fit standard wine cartons in the boot. But do not fear, if you have a few blankets and a supply of broadsheet newspapers you can singly pack an impressive number of bottles in even this boot. The trick is to wrap each bottle individually and position a blanket between each layer of bottles.
You wouldn't read about it.
At Bloodwood we demand the best from our staff.The correct attire and attitude during shoot positioning across the entire outdoor staff is a pre-requisite to the successful completion of every foliage training session. In fact, we've become quite superstitious on this point. At this time of year there are quite a few ice laden bilious clouds with indigestion rolling about the firmament. And it takes not a lot to upset the cosmic balance. Hard rain and small berries on immature bunches are not a good mix. So when this mob of imports, dressed up to the nines, leaning on their shovels and blatantly drinking on the job turned up pretending to be professional vineyard labourers, we knew the gods would be tempted..and they were on the 08/12/2004. We have pictures of the hail stones and the smashed bunches to prove it! It's enough for us to apply for a subsidy from the EEC.
All Seeing, All Knowing, All Powerful.
Geoff Cowey (AWRI) A Local Beardy and Mike De Garis at the 2009 Duckless New England Wine Show
"Ye gods - are you talking about the same person- I don't resemble him....well- the teeth maybe - but they were substituted for a meal of New England duck, which is still winging its way to the ....I'm not sure.
It's a bit strange when you see grown men wandering around calling 'ducky, ducky - where are you' or because it was in New England - 'here ducky, ducky - where hast thou'!
Ciao
El Shaky Spear" M. De Garis 31/10/2009
Learn more about Mick and his strange life at : http://www.private schools for all.con.Hey YOU!
Learn About Geoff and his running madness at: http://www.Geoff Goes Running for some obscure reason
New England Duckless Wine Show Contacts: http://www.duckless wineshow.htm
I first met Mick De Garis six years ago when we, alongside Charlie Whish were washed up on the potentially barren and treacherous shores as judges at the inaugural New England Wine Show. How wrong could we all have been! Now Glen Innes is a cold and lonely place for the uninitiated. The town is perched (that's real estate speak) at 1062 metres down the Black Range below Guyra in North Eastern NSW on the junction of the Gwydir and New England Highways. Even though the population is allegedly 8,793 souls, on the many occasions I've driven through GI over the years, this vast majority has successfully avoided me; even though with a Celtic name like Doyle and a beardy all of my own, you'd think they'd welcome me with outstretched, hairy arms. At least, unlike Armidale, I am faintly proud to report here that it is almost impossible to find a true Glen Innes local wandering about Meade Street in their slippers after mid-day. Nevertheless, they must be about the place somewhere. All I can think of is that with that elevated, spirited population representing 8.279 persons per meter, (that's Severn Council tourism Regional development speak) a lot of their activities in such a cold climate, must be conducted behind closed doors. And that seems only right and proper and very, warmly Celtic. I'd heard of Mick before that fateful show meeting of course. He was creating quite an impression at Roseworthy several years before my own attempt at breaching the ramparts of that peculiar citadel, and his name as winemaker cropped up alongside a long series of fine wines over the decades. In fact, unlike me, he has a distinguished future spread out behind him which includes being shouted at for over a decade by the Mouth of the Hunter, mastering the cellar at Cellar Masters and, more recently, controlling his wrath as Chief Winemaker at Rothbury. More importantly for Charlie, me and the New England Wine Show, he is very much in demand as a skilled palate in shows on both sides of the ditch. He is also a very personable chap who has an intrinsic charm complimenting his open and gregarious nature alongside a warm way with words which impresses the lads and ladies alike. What's more, he remembers everyone's names and their relationships to each other and does so with the quiet confidence of a trusted family dentist. With his immaculate manners and private school background, it is obvious to all that Mick and I have a lot in common. Even though he is substantially older then me, (I still have my own teeth) he is an exceptionally fine fellow who has well and truly earned his date with destiny on the Bloodwood celebrity stool.
The Greselda Who me? of Australian wine
Some people operate at 2 or 3 on a scale of 10. Mick's world begins at 11. That's why he looks so pleased with himself here dropping the free run wine through the press tank prior to pressing the marc. It all looks a bit excessive but such indelicate handling (macro-oxygenation) at this sage actually helps finish the primary alcoholic fermentation off to dryness and invigorates the malo-lactic conversion beginning in the new wine. But don't tell him that, he'll get the right idea.
From near Parkes
Noel Parkes from near Parkes parks with a load of fire wood for the Cellar Door This bloke..well actually his father whose name was, yes you guessed it, Noel Parkes, cut all the original posts (seen in the background to this picture) for the vineyard..and now he, Noel Parkes the son, keeps us supplied with fire wood for the cellar door. As is the way in some Australian country families, Noel Parkes the son, has.. a son..any guesses as to his name? The original posts for the vineyard mostly come from Yeoval State forest near, um, ... Parkes. They are an untreated Australian hard wood called Iron Bark and have stood for the best and worst of thirty years in our vineyard. They will be gradually replaced as they are, ahem, written off over the next ten years or so by similar posts cut by Noel Parkes Junior. That's the junior son of the bloke above who is the son of Noel Parkes from Parkes. Are there any questions? There is a wonderful country effeciency in this sort of arrangement here at Bloodwood, and as far as the Taxation commissioner is aware, that's the way we like to keep things. Is that all clear?
Healthy grapes
As many of you are aware,we have a very direct and uncompromising approach when it comes to the production of healthy grapes on our vineyard. Since we first planted vines on Boodwood in the spring of 1983, many things have changed in Australian viticulture. In those dim, dark days when Stephen was still a brunette, the use of insecticides like DDT and Kelthane to remove insects and mites from the vineyards of Australia was commonplace. It was usual for chemically-enhanced grape growers to be invited to barbecues and outdoor nocturnal functions to act as mobile human insect repellents for the remainder of the guests while the overtime your common vineyard spray cart driver earned as casual assistant sheep dip handler was often much more than the income derived through his full viticultural pursuits. At Bloodwood we have never used insecticides on the vineyard and have an unbending policy of using only non-synthetic elemental sprays to ward off the various fungal blights which are sent to annoy us. This means we spend a good part of the growing year spraying soft chemicals like copper and sulfur about, and we have never glowed in the dark. That's why it is SO annoying to have the young people of today turn up at Bloodwood and expect to get a job pruning in our precious vineyard dressed in SYNTHETIC blend apparel. With all the hard work we've done in maintaining the ecological health of the place, there's no way we will let anything artificial get within cooeee of our beautiful and vulnerable grapes...and we don't care a jot how difficult it is to find the stone when you need to sharpen your secateurs.
Warwick and Rod
Attila the Hun never suffered erectile dysfunction, and anyone left of Genghis Khan is suspected of being a perfume-wearing labor-voting nancy boy. These prominent and very relaxed ex-public servants have tweaked argument to an art form and have found fame in their own long-running un-reality TV series "NO, wot I mean, Minister". We're thinking of offering them a job as gardeners. Warwick and Rod like to plant trees and lefties at Bloodwood. The trees seem to be prospering even more than the resident piquant Proletariat. This is very good for all of us who are Left. Am I right or am I Right?
Big Men with Big Tights to fill.
As often as not when we make an outside appearance with the Bloodwood tent you'll find friends and neighbours doing personal impressions of Rhonda and myself. These are big tights to fill, but with Carol and Pete Nettel in the roles ably directed by Eric or Rhonda at a distance there is often only standing room in the wings at a Bloodwood wine tasting.
The Beardies have it.
Occasionally we invite the best chef and the best winemaker in the land around to dinner. At other times we invite Michael Manners and Philip Shaw around to Bloodwood and make them eat Bloodwood food and drink Bloodwood wine. And then we make them sit still while we photograph them pretending to enjoy themselves. This is called hospitality in the Australian wine industry. There's a lot you'll never know about Michael Manners and Philip Shaw.
Over achievement is only part of the story.
Tim Unwin is a long term friend of Bloodwood. You see, as his hobby is to play the role of an Academic Advisor and External Examiner for the Institute of Masters of Wine he knows good wine when he sees it. Well that's what we tell ourselves. He is a true polymath and if you have a spare few hours, look up his CV on the net. You'll be amazed. This, apparently is the only recorded picture of Tim sitting still.
Ray Johnson, Emeritus Mayor of Hamilton Island, and learned defender of the bewildered.
I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. 2009 is a year of anniversaries here at Bloodwood. However, even though it's 27 years since we planted our first Merlot Noir vines in the Blend Block, commemoration of this little viticultural achievement pales into triviality when we are reminded that this year marks the 76th anniversary of the visitation to this lonely planet of His Eccentricity, Liege Raymond Johnson QC; BSE; ACDC and Bar, President of Hamilton Island, defender of the incontinent and paladin of the great Concessionaires battle of 98. From a long line of snappy chiffonniers, El Presidente insists that three score years and ten (plus GST) is but a warm-up session for the real thing and offers us incontrovertible photographic evidence of his older brother's continuing good health and composure. May our sycophantic felicitations assuage Your Resplendence for countless years to come.
Merla and her main squeegee, Keeth
There are people in the life of Bloodwood who really make a difference.. to wine sales in Queensland. Too occasionally, they appear un-announced at the cellar door and while the winsome one on the left begins absent-mindedly swabbing the furniture for human detritus and traces of tasty meals past, the personable one reclining begins poisoning our paths and re-arranging our rockeries. Not that this is done casually or with any lack of professionalism; no they always travel prepared. Mops and buckets, glyphosate and glen 20 at the ready, they set about sterilizing theirs and our immediate environment with effortless efficiency and poise. In fact, if you want to see what the celebrity stool looked like before they recently arrived, take a sniff at the itchy mess incarnate under and surrounding the very unsuspecting .Brian Riesling It is difficult to believe, but there was a bare seven minutes between photographs..hardly enough time for a mere mortal to focus on the aberrant weedy problem at hand, let alone design, deliver and disinfect the stool and its stumps. We still don't know how they of all people ended up living in Crapalaba. Rhonda and I were trying to remember how many times we've met Keith over the years. I first ran into him over a half-bottle of warm and curdling tuck-shop milk, half century ago (which shows you how really old he is) and then there was an absence of 15 years before he again appeared on July 14th 1972 clutching a half-slab of Cairns Bitter Ale, muttering something about how BobDylan ripped off Phil Ochs and hiding under the same red wig Merla wears today. Another thirty-two years passed by and up he popped again, this time clutching a half case of Big men In Tights in one hand and Merla in the other and all the while demanding that we clean up OUR act. That's when the squeegee and the squeeger re-entered our lives, to our mutual and enduring benefit...or as Phil Ochs should have written, they are inside a small circle of clinical friends
Hand picked hand pickers.
We've had a team of grape pickers working at Bloodwood for all our thirty odd (sic) years. The core has been a group of Filipino brides and their offspring. Remy is a special part of the group. Always well dressed in bling and fly nets, this hard working, honest community is a joy to be around and we'd be lost without them. Here she is in early June picking the remnants of our late harvest Riesling.
‘Ello ‘ello ‘ello.
How do you separate a calf from its herd? With a great deal of difficulty in this case. This particular fellow needed to be in a different paddock to his mother but he didn’t like the idea at all. There is a reason cows and calves are described as units. They travel together, the calf shadowing every move his mother makes. This called for the professional approach of Sarge Barker and his executive extensor cage fitted box trailer. Only trouble was the calf didn’t recognise our superior cattle handling equipment and sarge Barker was forced to collar the calf and ride in the trailer himself. I rest my casa yer ‘honour.
The celebrity stool is an integral part of the Bloodwood experience.
For a start, if you can find Bloodwood cellar door without using GPS technology, you automatically qualify as a Bloodwood celebrity. That means that you will be asked to give your own existential interpretation of the meaning behind the amazingly ambiguious etchings displayed below. Over the years, we've noticed that there is an inverse co-relation between the time it takes an individual to crack the code and their IQ. Shallow simple types with a gift for the bleedin' obvious get it straight away, whereas wine makers and other deep philosophical types stare at it for hours before it either jumps out at them, or the sun goes down on their egoes. Either way, the Eureka moment is just as rewarding, especially for us as we pretend to be sympathetic to their torment. We'd blame Ian Marr the local stone cutter and artist if we were you. Which we aren't. As far as we can tell.
Bloodwood's distinctive label, packaging and stationery design is by our highly talented friend Wayne Harris. (Phone/Fax 02-95172896). Wayne is a sublimely talented and internationally recognised graphic designer, children's book illustrator and author, fine artist and even finer friend who has been an integral part of both our lives for over 40 years.
Visitors to the Bloodwood cellar door have had the pleasure of witnessing his magnificent, steadily growing mural which is being periodically painted by Wayne. It is a reflection of the stories which underscore our story at Bloodwood over almost three decades, stories which would be incomplete without the presence of Wayne in both our lives.