A Tribute To Old Moore’s

Jim Moore’s wine label with art and poem by my Mother, Grace Moore

For many years the last weekend in November was on reserve. For over a decade this weekend was held by my family for my Father’s Annual “Old Moore’s” Wine Party. At the end of his life, these parties were 100 plus regular folks interested in an evening of sharing and storytelling. No one got drunk.

The food, prepared with love, came from all his family members and was served in a decorated space beyond any Banquet Hall you may remember. It was private, and it was meaningful.

There were music and singing and sometimes dancing. Here my Father, the Wine Master, sat nursing his old Navy drink of Rum, behind his vast array of coloured wine bottles, asking each person to choose. So many different fruits. A new one every year, it seemed.

In front of their guests, my Father and Mother spoke about the importance of sharing and being with others. Watching them, I knew they were leading by example. They knew the power of knowing your neighbour and inviting your repairman and your bank teller and the man who changes your tires. I call it: “The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker.”

So for my first blog in December at the Living Of Loving, I am posting their story to celebrate friendship, close and extended. I think of my parents as community builders.

This is my Mother’s poem on the Old Moore’s label:

Fruit is made into wine
Enjoy it while you dine
Loving deeds can build a home
Where the wine of Life is Known

In honour of my parents love for gathering and sharing, I am posting a cartoon drawn of my Father, Jim Moore, by Cowboy Cartoonist Wendy Liddle; along with the limericks and poems that were written over the years for my Father’s homemade wines.  I hope you feel inspired to invite people over this season.  Share a coffee, a story or extend a hand to a neighbour.  Who knows what limerick is waiting for us!

Jim Moore Winemaker “Rhubarb”

Limericks/Poems

There once was a ‘dande’ named Jim,
Whose crock contained “lions” to the brim.
The brew turned out fine,
Rich dandelion wine;
If you want some, why not ask him?
M.C.

A winemaking genius named Jim,
Filled stone crocks with water to the brim,
Then with magic divine
Turned the water into wine;
The Master had nothing on him.
A.B.

There once was a man named Jim,
Who was quite famous for his gin
But there came a time
When he turned to wine
And the dandy-lion he is, is in him.
J.H.

There once was a connoisseur named Jim
Whose view of Carling’s was dim,
So he gathered some “dandies”
And made us fine brandies.
Oh, boy, were those drinks full of vim!
J.F.

There once was a Moore called Jim
Who put himself out on a limb.
His wine was so great
So pleasing the palate
There was never any left for him.
C.F

Old Moore is mighty handy
At producing wines and brandy;
He serves his product grandly
Which devotees think just dandy!
B.B.

O golden brilliant, melliferous wine,
I’ll drink yet again of that nectar divine!
Jim may pour some out
For some other red snout
But God help the man who takes mine!

The bounties of nature are many, I think:
Fruits, flowers and veggies end up in our sink
Let others make jams
Grow peas or cured hams
But let Jim make his glorious drink!
L.M.

Have a blessing day!

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© GWJ Creative Art, P.O. Box 1547, 100 Mile House, B.C. V0K 2E0
©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019

 

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