The Messoirano vineyard has been one of the first land acquisitions made by our father. It was here that, at the beginning of the 1930’s, he built a house for our farmers, a new shed for the animals and some rooms for us, the family. Our grandfather Mentore insisted to have the room at the top, with a garret facing south and overlooking the Tinella valley, so that, early in the morning, he could savour the sun rising behind the Valdivilla hills. He ended up staying there only once, he confessed: on that night there had been a storm so violent that he, terrorised, slept for the remaining hours on a heap of straw in the shed. In the summer of 1943 we moved – all our possessions on a ox carriage and us kids, four siblings and three cousins, tagging along - from our old house in Marcorino to the new one in Messoirano. It was a memorable summer, full of freedom and play, with many little and important things to learn: how to sharpen a sickle, how to reap a field while bending down enough to be able to glimpse the white and blue knickers worn by the young farmer girl, how to work the engine of the threshing machine, the excitement and all the chaos of the harvest. Then the war came, with all its darkness and its rounding ups. The name Messoirano comes from the ‘falce messoira’, the sickle we used in the harvest.