One by one they each took turns piloting a re-purposed four wheeled device down the hill in the back yard. Whereby they would position a second young person at the bottom of the hill to "catch" the one piloting said device. As you might imagine this arrangement filled me with the kind of anxiety that I have come to expect as a father. I've learned to cope over the past nine years though. I thought to myself, "They'll be fine. I shouldn't interfere." I observed the rate at which they were descending and was mostly satisfied that everything thing would be alright. They were in their glory! I went about my business.
As I was typing an article for this very site I heard a noise. Nothing too loud. It might have been a bird or the dog outside. There it was again. As I turned from the computer I realized it was my oldest daughter. Now I knew what it was I heard. She was crying. I asked her why she was crying. Reluctantly she said she didn't want to tell me, because, I would be mad. At this point I heard my wife say under her breath, "The hops." Ooooh, "The hops", I said. I guess I could have been steaming mad, but, she was obviously very upset already. She told me the whole story, straight up. Evidently the child positioned at the bottom failed to "catch" the four-wheeled hop shredding machine and it and my daughter sheered off or mangled over half of the bines on the one side of the trellis. We walked out the the scene of the accident together to survey the damage.
Here on the left you can see the remnants that seem to be rebounding quite nicely the day after. On the right, I saved the severed limbs and placed them in some water to see if they would give rise to new plants.
Yes indeed, a setback for the left hand side of the trellis, but, somehow I think we'll be alright. Meaning the hops, my daughter and The Brew Lounge.
NEWS FLASH: Hop shredding machine photographed returning to the scene of the crime.