We live in southern California growing grapes, a first generation of vintners, our home adjacent to the vineyards and the winery. It’s a very pretty place, and in order to earn the money to realize our dream of making wine, we worked for many years in a business that demanded several household moves, an incredible amount of risk-taking and long absences from my husband. When it was time, we traded in our old life, cinched up our belts and began the creation of the winery. We make small amounts of premium wine, and our lives are dictated by the rhythm of nature and the demands of the living vines. The vines start sprouting tiny green tendrils in March and April, and the baby grapes begin to form in miniature, so perfect that they can be dipped in gold to form jewelry. The grapes swell and ripen in early fall, and when their sugar content is at the right level, they are harvested carefully by hand and crushed in small lots. The wine is fermented and tended until it is ready to be bottled. The vineyards shed their leaves, the vines are pruned and made ready for the dormant months -- and the next vintage. It sounds nice, doesn’t it Living in the country, our days were spent in the ancient routine of the vineyard, knowing that the course of our lives as vintners was choreographed long ago and that if we practiced diligently, our wine would be good and we’d be successful. From the start we knew there was a price for the privilege of becoming a winemaking family, connected to the land and the caprices of nature. We work hard at something we love, we are slow to panic over the daily emergencies, and we are nimble at solving problems as they arise. Some hazards to completing a successful vintage are expected: rain just before harvesting can cause mold; electricity unexpectedly interrupted during the cold fermentation of white wine can damage it; a delayed payment from a major client when the money is needed. There are outside influences that disrupt production and take patience, good will and perseverance. (For example) the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms regulates every facet of the wine business. A winery’s records are audited as often as two or three times a year and every label--newly written for each year’s vintage must be approved ... (But) The greatest threat to the winery, and one that almost made us lose heart, came out of a lawyer’s imagination. Our little winery was served notice that we were named in a lawsuit accusing us of endangering the public health by using lead foils on our bottles (it was the only material used until recently) "without warning consumers of a possible risk." There it was, our winery’s name listed with the industry’s giants ... I must have asked a hundred times: "Who gets the money if the lawsuit is successful" The answer was, and I never was able to assimilate it, the plaintiffs and their lawyers who filed the suit! Since the lawsuit was brought on behalf of consumers, it seemed to me that consumers must get something if it was proved that a lead foil was dangerous to them. We were told one of the two consumer claimants was an employee of the firm filing the suit! There are attorneys who focus their careers on lawsuits like this. It is an immense danger to the small businessman. Cash reserves can be used up in the blink of an eye when in the company of lawyers. As long as it’s possible for anyone to sue anybody for anything, we are all in danger. As long as the legal profession allows members to practice law dishonorably and lawyers are congratulated for winning big money in this way, we’ll all be plagued with a corruptible justice system. The phrase "cinched up our belts", in the first paragraph, suggests that the couple

A. thought creating a winery would be easy.
B. wore clothing that was too big.
C. strapped their belongings together and moved.
D. prepared for the difficult work ahea