So one day I was at home, minding my own business; doing laundry, scrubbing toilets, grabbing a fistful of M&M’s every time I passed the candy dish, kids at my heels every step of the way. The doorbell rang.
Of course the kids run to the window, “It’s the brown truck mommy”.
Nothing unusual, the brown truck stops here often since there is NO COOL SHOPPING where I live. I didn’t think much of the box now sitting on my dining room table. I was more concerned with getting the hooligans down for a nap so I COULD open the mystery box.
I didn’t recognize the sender but figured it was likely some techno-geek-gadget the Wild Boar had ordered. The box was heavy, maybe a fifth computer for our house or the seventh DVD player because we are barely surviving with four computers and six movie machines. Or maybe it was another fifty miles of black wire the Wild Boar likes to amass in boxes in the garage; I think we have enough cable to sling ourselves to the moon and back at least thirty times.
Anyway, kids in bed, me with a knife to cut the tape keeping me from the secret contents inside; even though deep down I know I will be hugely disenchanted with the innards of this package. Its boring contents to match my boring, mundane existence.
Alright, it’s open; lots of styrofoam jimmies…lots…digging…digging…eeeeee-gads!?!? Why am I hearing the eerie chorus of children singing nursery rhymes?
Ummm…what the heck is this? An epitaph for wine…this is creepy and freaky all at the same time.
A poizinous wine? A wooden box of poizinous wine? The children’s singing is getting louder. I have this horrible, sickening feeling Chuckie is going to appear around the corner and bite my ankles off.
A wooden-box of poizinous wine fully etched with a Skull and Crossbones?
In its own personal coffin? My stomach turned over about nineteen times. Who the heck sent me a potion fit for a poltergeist? Halloween was months away.
But to make matters worse, it wasn’t just the “one coffin wonder” now sitting on my table; staring at me like a death wish ready to happen. It was…
the three coffins with Poizin wine staring at me giving me diarrhea. I did not order this wine. There was no gift card (but who would admit to this gift).
I just sat there staring at it. Dumbfounded. Creeped out. And awaiting a zombie attack I just knew was going to happen at any moment.
I dug through the jimmies and found a packing slip with Blah Blah Delivery Company named as the shipper.
I grabbed the phone, called them up and demanded to know who had sent me this bewitchingly, not-so-funny, wine assault in FREAKIN’ coffins!
What I was sure was a vampire on the other line, said, “Oops, so sorry. That package was not meant for you. It was sent to you by mistake.” (Apparently I had ordered wine from a place before using this particular shipping company).
Uhhhhh, you don’t send three coffins to someone and just say, “Oops!” I mean I’m sitting here hearing strange, eerie melodies and waiting for Chuckie and the zombies. Whatever.
“The wine is yours,” said the vampira on the other end of the line. Too much trouble to come back out and pick it up I guess. My lucky day, right?
I don’t believe in accidents. I believe the universe serves you exactly what you are supposed to get. And I was getting death wine. An early warning sign of something dramatic to come. Why? I don’t know. But now it was “free death wine”.
Hmmm, I guess I could be coaxed into drinking it. You know, just a little taste. And wouldn’t it be the perfect Halloween wine? I’m in.
2000 Armida Reserve Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley $65
So it turns out this is a special wine. Every year Armida Winery sources their best lots of Zin to make up the Poizin blend.
This wine was all dark fruit up front; blackberry, plum, dark cherries. It was bold. It was jammy.
The oak aging was apparent with hints of vanilla and brown spice that was well integrated with the fruit.
This wine had great structure, which I think comes from the Petit Sirah that is blended with this wine.
Trust me, this wine will satisfy all your mature candy cravings on Halloween and beyond.
But here’s the thing. The wine coffins have found their home on the bottom shelf of a wine rack. I mean it’s not like you can get rid of these things. You can’t. The coffins are now part of the family; if coffins can become part of the family??
I remember when a friend begged me, offered me money, promised to babysit my children like forever, promised me riches and fame if I would let her have one of my coffins. She was desperately in love with these things; it was kind of weird actually. You know what she wanted it for…this might gross you out…it grossed me out…
She was pregnant at the time and wanted to bury her placenta in it…in her backyard…Eeeewww! I mean, have you ever seen a placenta? It looks like a brisket. It does! I saw mine and then begged them to take it away. Very yucky. I can’t imagine leaving the hospital with my precious infant and the side of meat that accompanied him inside my womb. Sorry if you buried your placenta under a tree. It’s not for me. The incinerator welcomed mine with open flames, and I was good with that.
ANYWAY, these coffins have their place, in my house. But imagine my horror when I went into my youngest hooligan’s room yesterday and found this…
Ummm, yeah, little coffin beds for his little stuffed friends. I laughed and cried all at once. So innocent, but morbid, at least to me.
And one more thing Armida also makes this wine, in the same bottle, in the same coffins but with a Pink Skull and Crossbones”. They donate some of the profits to Breast Cancer Research. And don’t get me wrong, that is wonderful and generous. BUT, if you were a breast cancer survivor and someone brought you a bottle of pink death wine in a coffin to support your fight of the disease….wouldn’t you totally freak out? Wouldn’t you?
So did you drink any thing poisonous last night you’d like to tell me about?