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| Sitting by the fire at the beautiful Villa Tranquilla |
One of the many things I love about my new life is that one minute I can be sitting in the spacious living room at my friends' beautiful villa near Maratea and the next be hanging from an olive tree helping another friend with her raccolta della olive (olive harvest). This is a story of contrasts--Contrasts of weather, way of life, and methods of olive harvest.
Our friend Pina mentioned that she was about to harvest her olives. Since we are typical expats, we said we wanted to help. (Most expats in Italy want to help with the grape and olive harvests--probably because the books we read before we come all describe the fun had by all). Remember Doug and I just came from a farm so we figured we wouldn't be too stupid about the work involved. It wasn't bad at all and the day was perfect. I can hear Guido right now reminding me to tell you about each step involved and the equipment used and to cut the philosophy in half. So okay, here it is in captioned pictures:
| Pina wouldn't let us climb the trees since she weighs less than we do and the branches break easily-- plus I think she liked it |
| I honestly don't know what I was doing here, perhaps lowering a branch so I could reach the olives |
| This olive grove is in our town, Santa Domenica Talao, down off of the hill Pina helps her friend Franco harvest his olives so she can harvest some oil |
| These are what the olives look like on the tree They are very bitter so there is no tasting while you pick |
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| Here is Franco using his 500 Euro electric rake (works off a tractor battery) He is happy because he is getting a lot more done than we are |




I am delighted you enjoyed your first experience of helping with the olive harvest. For the first time since we moved here our harvest was a huge disappointment. We have no control over nature so hope for a better one again next year. Maybe you read my post?
ReplyDeleteYes we did. Farm life can be so changeable can't it? My grandfather once had a bumper crop of wheat so beautiful that he took pictures of it with my Mom standing in it for scale. The next day a thunderstorm with hail took it all, 100% ruined. The land of "next year" is where farmers live.
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