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Gardening has always been on my list of passions. I love pulling ripe veggies and fruits out of my novice, urban gardens. When I need oregano, sage or rosemary, I clip it from pots sitting on our back porch. So when Hubby told me we were invited to a vineyard to help with the fall harvest, I was thrilled.

My 14-year-old was not as enthusiastic when we pried his fingers off the keyboard and forced him into the car. "It will broaden your horizons," I promised.

"You'll get some sun," his stepdad added.

"If you weren't so strict about where I could go on the Internet, I could broaden my horizons at home. I could even open the blinds to let in some sunshine." No, my son did not actually utter those last statements, but by his expression, I am sure that is what he would have said had he spoken to us that afternoon.

Grapes and raisins make a great snack. Peanut butter goes extremely well with grape jam. And grape juice and wine are filled with antioxidants. As much interaction as people have with this ancient fruit, the least we could do is get our hands dirty on a breezy, sunny day and help out some friends.

I honestly could not wait to get there and connect with nature on such a raw and beautiful level. By the time we arrived at the rural vineyard set on acres of picturesque land, I had built up the event so much to my family that my youngest was ready to grab some clips and start harvesting with the rest of us.

However, my youngest is 9 nine years old. The clips are extremely sharp, as was pointed out by our gracious hosts. I decided it was better to assign photography duties to the little guy. When I said he could not clip grapes, his bottom lip extended forward. When I handed him our digital camera in lieu of clippers, his lip disappeared and his eyes bulged out with happiness.

He then proceeded to take 80 pictures of the landscape, grapevines, buckets of grapes, clouds, and every possible angle of the really cool refurbished tractor used to pick up the full buckets. The slide show was rather impressive. The little guy clearly inherited the photography gene from his beloved poppy.

In the meantime, Hubby, big brother and I were busily filling buckets with ripe bunches of purple grapes. About an hour into our harvesting, Hubby noticed that his light green shirt was splotched with grape stains. He looked over at me in my purple shirt. "You really thought this through, didn't you?"

"Yes I did," I replied, "I pulled out a shirt I knew would blend in with the grapes."

"I'm sure you can use a stain remover to get the purple stains out of my red shirt." No, my 14-year-old did not start talking to me and join in the conversation. But by his expression, I was sure that was what he was thinking at the time.

For three hours, we clipped and filled buckets. The time flew by, probably because we were not the only ones invited to the harvest event. Lots of friends and family showed up to clip and fill buckets. We all methodically worked our way down the rows, chatting as we worked.

Well, my oldest was not very chatty, but I did catch him responding once or twice to others who chatted with him. I honestly believe he enjoyed himself, but I do not expect him to admit that fact until he is 35.

My 9-year-old finally put the camera back in the car when the batteries died. But he kept himself busy tasting grapes, playing with the dogs and swinging on the cool rope swing.

After everyone's hard work, our hosts had a big cookout that we, unfortunately, could not attend because we had to pick up our middle child, who was otherwise engaged that day, and take care of other obligations.

But we offered to come back again and join in on the harvest fun when the time came. We were promptly informed that we would be taken up on that offer the very next weekend when another section of vines would be filled with ripe grapes.

My oldest finally broke his silence and mentioned that he was busy all next weekend. But he was sure his brother, who missed out on our first harvesting experience, would be more than happy to have his horizons broadened with the rest of the family.

Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@earthlink.net.