May Day! May Day!

Spring has sprung, the grass is riz (oh HOW it's riz! stupid sputtering mower!), I've had ever so many wine experiences these past months. . . but I can't seem to get off my tuckered arse to actually WRITE about it. It's not that I've stopped loving wine, or drinking it, or thinking about it; it's that I can't seem to muster the energy to set it all down in print.

I blame Jonah. Kinda like Amy blaming her Godzilla-sized brain tumor for her unexpected crying jag, or her speedy desertion of a friend in need, or making the wrong choice in sperm donors*. I figure a brain tumor, excised or not, provides excuses enough to cover any number of transgressions or faux pas for oh, at least 10 years. *snark alert*

So it is with child-rearing. Jonah ought to be worth countless excuses between now (18 months of age) and matriculation. And the delicious irony is that after THAT, he will blame ME for various misdeeds of his own. That's what children do, isn't it? As the saying goes, "All therapy is about your mother." Mothers. Whatever.

Hang on. I'm going out to the recyling bin (Okay, recyling buckets. Kitty litter containers. Plastic pails in which to store junk. Like bottles awaiting dropoff at the screaming purple Ripple Glass behemoths.) to check my most recent encounters of the wine-y kind. Because it's not as if I can remember what I most recently sipped, except last night's 2007 Green and Red Chiles Mill Zin, at Houston's, which God love 'em also has the Dashe Zin, and the Elyse, and mother of all mother lodes, the A. Rafanelli! 2008, in case anyone cares. (Is there a word for logorrhea of the keyboard? because I think I've contracted it. Help! I've been stricken with prolixity!)

Wait. I don't have to go outside to remember the best-tasting surprise cork-popping in recent memory: The Hidden Ridge 55% Slope Cabernet Sauvignon, 2005. Holy father of Cabs! Where did I GET this wine? It is flat-out scrumptious, like a Cab should be. I can't remember where I bought it, or HOW: It's out of my price league, fo sho. Happy Easter to me, Happy Easter to me, Happy EASTER to meee-eee, and Lisa and Andie. . . . I opened this AFTer the 2007 Foxglove Cab (meh. okay. no write-y home-y, $14 wine.com) and the highly touted Georges deBoeuf Morgon (Costco, $12) , some Gamay Burgundy Beaujolais/Pinot vino that I figured might go with ham. Light. Non-offensive. Except, of course, that it was light. Which fans of big reds might well find offensive. . .

Well. What the Morgon REALLY went with, no idea have I why, was the oh-so-tasty lemon cake Andie had made. The Cabs, of course, went terrifically with Leeser's chocolate chess pie, but it's laughably easy for a Cab to go with chocolate, so no bonus points there.

Anyway. The Hidden Ridge Cab 2005 can be had for maybe $40 on sale, $75 not discounted. Eesh. That means I shan't have it again, leastways iffen I'M buying. Gosh I hope I didn't accidentally drink my sister's wine! She ordered so much last year that I still am not sure I've hauled all of it from my cellar (okay, basement) and delivered it to her. With any luck, she won't read this post.

Ooh, ooh, I remember another winner! The Rebel Cru from Wine Guerilla! Bruce Patch kicks out some flavorful Zins, but this inaugural blend is more Prisoner-ish, and much, much rarer. Maybe 1,400 cases of the Cru available, while Orin Swift's cult fav. The Prisoner doubles production every year - think it's up to 80,000 cases or more with the 2009, since the label was sold to Quintessa. And the Rebel Cru? Just $25. Zin, Cab, Syrah, Petite Sirah. We liked it even before Bruce autographed the bottle.

You know what? It's getting late, and I find I don't actually NEED to rummage through my empties. Not now, anyway. It's time to set the trash at the curb, and go watch my baby boy sleep. Precious, innocent, dreamy little Jonah, replenishing his energy for another day of raising Hades and wearing me out.