I love typing outside. It seems a bit counter-productive: computers are usually the centerpieces of rooms designed to optimize productivity and minimize distractions. But in this particular case: sitting in the cool shade of my housing block on a beautiful sunny day, recounting the events of the last few days, it fits.
Last Wednesday was my first day in lab. It was an interesting experience the first time, but it solidified something that I suspected from the day got this job: I really had no idea what constituted grunt-analytical wine chemistry. I guess it’s a sign of my experience (or lack thereof) when I walked into the lab and the only instruments I recognized were the pH probe, the stir/heating plate, and the FTIR. All of the glass rigs and most of the chemicals (most of which were specific to the wine industry) were completely foreign.With the new house also came new house rules: new methods, new standard operating procedures, new ways of cleaning and standards of cleanliness, etc. Learning the ropes has taken time, and I am definitely still learning, but at least the process is happening, albeit slowly. The biggest difference between the lab here and the lab at Gallo is because we clean and re-use our test tubes and centrifuge tubes, we need to condition them with the sample before we fill the tube, in order to remove any particulate or leftover soap. In the beginning, it was very easy to forget to rinse your tube or sample jar before I filled it, but now it’s almost second nature. By the end of harvest, it will be muscle memory, and the next place I go will give me funny looks when I do it.
Another noticeable difference is the way we handle and crush grape samples. Those of you who are familiar with my experiences at the grape assessment lab in Livingston will know that I have handled several thousand grape samples in my career, and I like to think that I know how to process samples efficiently. I really liked the way Gallo handled grape samples: after de-stemming, the grapes were crushed in the bag they came in and the juice was then roughly filtered, mixed, and poured into 50 mL centrifuge tubes; minimal cleanup afterwards and no cross contamination. At Mud House, grapes are crushed using a large garlic press, essentially. The juice is collected in a large bucket, mixed, then poured into a 150 mL plastic jar, then transferred into centrifuge tubes once it gets back to the lab. Since the garlic press has to be cleaned before each grape sample, this method takes more time. Also, since the garlic press can’t be rinsed thoroughly with water between each press, as extra water would dilute the sample, you need to scrape it out with a stiff spatula, and since you cant get every bit of pumice out of the press with a spatula, you get cross contamination. Afterwards you need to thoroughly clean everything with water, and sweep up the pumice you scraped out of the press that didn’t make it into the garbage can. In short: lots of cleanup, and cross contamination; feel free to bang your head against the wall on my behalf. I actually spoke to my supervisor about changing over to the “Gallo method,” but apparently our current method most closely replicates the grape crushing practices in the winery. I can see several flaws in this argument, but in the interest of keeping my job I think I’ll shut up and simply settle for reporting results that are sort of wrong.
There, I said it. It’s out of my system. Now onto other matters.
I am still affectionately known as “lab chick.” However, like all jokes, if you use it enough, it stops being entertaining.
“It was funny the first time, and amusing for the next couple of days, but now its jus annoying. I feel like I’m back at DCS being teased about my weight (3-13-11).”
It has always been done in good fun, everyone would always laugh afterwards and say something like “We do it because we love you Dan,” or “I’m just jealous because you get to work with two attractive women all day and I get to work with this jerk.” When this started out, I didn’t quite believe them: I had only known them for the better part of two weeks, and you need to build up more rapport then that if you expect me to laugh at the crap you throw at me. However, I am happy to report that unlike in my elementary years, I can dish it back just as easily. I feel a little bad for Eric, one of the guys who really likes to jab at me with this. It was almost too easy:
“Life is funny sometimes. It turns out Eric was paid $10 to kiss another guy, an old guy, and then blabbed to everyone about it. Hello, leverage! (3-13-11)”
Eric and I are still good friends despite the name-calling. Sometimes I want very much to taekwondo him, but that can be said for most of my friends. A couple days later, he, another guy named Graham, and I discovered that there was a rope swing hanging over the river that runs behind Duncannon. And as it was a hot day, guess what we all did? I’m not sure I can backflip off the swing though; you don’t get a lot of forward and upward momentum on the upswing to help with the rotation. I’m sure I’ll give it a try at some point though. The rope swing has since become very popular amongst the residents here, even a couple kayakers paddling down from Blenheim have taken a swing.
The last thing I wanted to talk about: Ryan, my roommate from California, has finally arrived at Duncannon. True to form, the first thing he did was find a brew kit at a supermarket and start brewing four gallons of ale.
“I was initially hesitant about rooming with Ryan again, but that’s all gone. I’m glad that happy lumberjack brewer is here. Ryan is over living with the other Rapaura Vitners crewmembers. All of them are awesome too, though Ryan is wishing he spoke Spanish, as half of his crew speaks it as a primary language. Who knew you needed Spanish in New Zealand. Go figure (3-15-11).”
Things really started to come together toward the end of this writing period: I got into the swing of things at work (however reluctantly), closer friendships were made with my own coworkers, and new friends were made as well: I mentioned that I had met Ryan’s colleagues, but I have also gotten closer to the guys working for Oyster Bay. I really like it here; I think I may have a hard time leaving. I used to say that when I got rich and old, I would retire in a villa in the hills above Florence, Italy, but now I think I may retire somewhere here. I can’t pin down a location for my villa here yet, there is a lot of this country left to see, and Marlborough isn’t even an area known for its beauty.
“I am going to stop here: I’ve run out of things to talk about, and there is a beerpong game going in the ping-pong room. Again, thanks to Ryan (3-15-11)”
Until next week, take care everybody!
-DK
No comments:
Post a Comment