I want to say nothing happened today but that wouldn’t really be true. Lots of things happened today, just not to me.
The work remains the same, the weather is the only thing that changes. It was a bit of everything. I put on, and took off, and then put on again, almost every article of clothing I had today. It was cold and cloudy and windy, sunny and warm, cloudy and still. It rained a bit after lunch.
A damp breeze and banks of dark, loaded, gray clouds, some tinged in radiant white were cruising in one after the other from the sea. Boom. They would run into what the A.O.C. calls the Terraces du Larzac, get caught in the colines and storm. All morning we were just a bit too low and in the wrong coline to get rained out. As I hunkered in for my after lunch siesta in the car, it was dark enough to dream of rain.
My dream became real. It rained in the afternoon but not enough to stop working. It just as well, I can use the hours. That’s all I really earn, is hours, because I get most of the money when I finish working and me and my vigneron say à la prochain and square up the ledgers - Take what belongs to you, and go. Until then it’s on something of an account. Meanwhile I am like a whore who asks her mac for a bit of spending money when the basic needs, or a night out with the girls arises.
It’s low budget, this migrant work. Literally toiling in the vineyards. The moments though, arrive. They just weren’t today.
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