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A harvest day |
Sunday 14 October 2001, it is 7:15, the day is not yet up and the final harvest will join the group already present in the court of Seppi Landmann. Good humor is already in place and the first fuse jokes. More than half of these are customers who come mainly for pleasure and to help in their own way to the production of their favorite nectar. At 7:30, the truck off to the slopes of Zinnkoepflé. The curves and blocks of sandstone shake the joyous troop who clings not to crush its neighbors too. |
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First station, everyone descends and Seppi give instructions: "This plot is basically a foot sylvaner but muscat. You will perform a sort: in the green bucket the sylvaner to rot, in orange bucket while Muscat. Then there is the tandem, their rank and awards them with an additional instruction: "Make no more than at the end of the row, you know your partner well." |
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It's now time for coffee with some pastries served well for us and for fans, a spirit house, which contributes to raise the temperature of the body already warmed by exertion and rays of a sun that looks very generous. As in a ballet set properly by the master of ceremonies, new tris are made in two other plots of sylvaner. "Porteur! Bearer", all sides of this exclamation amounts provided to stimulate the ardor of the holders as to steam. Paternal and closes at a time, Seppi is not stingy with jokes but does not deprive certain developed when the need arises. "The main bunch in the bucket in the row" is his favorite expression concerning the proper approach to limit the loss of grains. |
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There is midday and the village escapes aubade a hunting horn. Everyone appreciates the moment of serenity in a beautifully highlighted by the clarity of a cloudless sky. Tables were compiled on a replat of two parcels of vines. |
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