We visited my parents this weekend. When the house was extended over 40 years ago (I was four!), they planted a grape against the new fencing. My grandfather tended the vines — he had a way with plants, and he took care of the trimming and culling of the smaller bunches to make the remaining ones bigger and sweeter. But it’s not a very sweet kind of grape, so it remained more of a curiosity than a delicious treat. (Though there is a certain appeal to being able to serve “home-grown grapes” as part of a fruit salad or other kind of dessert, or punch.)
After his death, I think there was some attempt to continue the upkeep of the grapes, but as time progressed it was left to its own devices. And as you can see, the plant doesn’t need to be told how to grow! The grapes are not that nice to eat, but it sure makes for an elegant backdrop on their terrace.