Fangboner Farms

Thanks Boone’s Farm Workers

So this morning, I helped Roland harvest the first of our grapes.  He's an old pro at this - he's been making wine for close to 20 years.  I have enjoyed drinking wine for well over 30.  Big difference from making it to drinking it.

I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.  The grapes are so beautiful and taste wonderful.  Of course when I tasted them, I'm eating profits.  Roland was "Quality Control."  Right.

One thing I found out is that bugs of all kinds, love to live under those vines.  I had on a t-shirt and jeans, covered in OFF and even had one of those little fan/bug spray things hanging off the back of my shirt.  Still got bit.  And met a few of my buddies, the slugs. Ugh.

It made me fully appreciate all the people who worked to give me my first bottle of Boone's Farm wine all those years ago to today.  Picking grapes is hard work that no machine can do.

So here's a picture of my first harvest - the 3 buckets I picked! 

 

So What's with the name?

So What's with the name?

So I've had quite a few people ask me where we came up with the name Fangboner Farms.  Long old Aguilar family story but it is funny how things do work out.

First of all, think like a 10-year-old boy.  We were heading to Cedar Point one day on the Ohio Turnpike.  Just as you come to the Fremont exit, there is a overpass with the name on it - Fangboner Rd.  So my dear son Alex, 10 at the time, starts to snicker, then giggle, then laugh.  We asked him what was so funny and he said "Fangboner!"  He kept laughing.  Still thinking like a 10-year-old boy?  Get it?  So Alex at some point after that proclaimed that his first child would be named Fangboner Machinegun Aguilar and his nickname would be Boner. 

Alex is now 26 and last I heard, that name is still on the table. . .

So when Roland and I started our business, I wanted a memorable name - thus Fangboner Farms.  

So thanks to the wonderful people who actually live on Fangboner Rd. in Fremont and the silly silly mind of a 10-year-old boy.  An empire is born!

I never realized how dark out it really is

In the city, there are pretty much always lights around. Streetlights, car lights, house lights - it seems like you can never find a truly dark spot.  Well unless you count the time I was walking down 42nd Street in New York City by myself at 3am a long time ago.  But I digress.

So the other night I got out of my car.  It wasn't that late - 10pm or so - but it was pitch black out in our turnaround. As I crossed the yard, it happened.  I dropped my keys.  So soft I couldn't hear them fall, but I could certainly hear the loud not-so-nice word I said.  

I knelt down, felt around and tried to find them. It was so dark I couldn't really even see my hand. And of course it was near one of our numerous flower beds.  So I crawled around, feeling the ground and suddenly found something I wasn't looking for.  I believe they call them slugs.  Felt like a huge snot ball.  I know, sounds gross, but you get the picture. I screamed, tried to get it off of my hand and it stuck, like well, snot.

So after wiping my hand on the grass numerous times, I finally freed myself from my country captor. And pulled out my handy cell phone and found my keys.

Lesson learned.  We put solar lights up and down the walkway.  And I now put my keys in my purse before I get out of the car.  

Now as long as I don't lock my purse in the car.