Racking and pitching

I racked the blackberry wine today. Racking, for the uninformed, is siphoning the wine off the dead yeast slurry that forms at the bottom of the primary fermentation vessel. It isn't finished; it goes into another vessel for about six weeks or so to finish the slower second fermentation. One transfers the wine by siphon to avoid oxidation. After about five minutes, I found myself energetically noting mentally that NEXT TIME I do a fruit wine or melomel I by-God use the pulp bag. The siphon kept getting clogged, and some of the fruit went into the secondary, which I didn't want to happen so much, and it was all in all a pain in the ass. But it's in the dark cabinet with a sign to work on it again in January.

In other news, I felt good enough to do a thorough clean of my front room... and I mean -clean-. Moved furniture, damp-mopped the wood flooring, swept the carpet thoroughly. I ran out of steam at the 7/8 done mark, when I was down to putting away everything I'd piled on the couch, but I can do that tomorrow before I start the bread, or while it's rising or something. Once I get things clean keeping them so won't be so laborious, especially since Bear had His Revelation.

That was interesting. He looked at me and said, "You know, it's at least half my fault that the house is in this shape. I come in, take my socks off, and just toss them around, leave pop cans sitting around...I'm going to stop doing that." I about cried. And he is doing better. He toes his socks off, leans over, picks them up, and asks where there's a basket of dirty laundry, and very carefully puts all his dirty clothes in it. I still have to un-ball the dirty socks, but I'm not complaining. Him being conscious of it makes it easier on me and the kids, too, because I'm not tempted to just say "to hell with it".