My Fellow Inebriates,
This week Miss P is touring a historic Fort Langley site with her class. My dad, who is joining the field trip as a “parent helper,” has the option of dressing up with her in old-time pioneer clothes. Although this leaves the house empty for us bears to party, I still get freaked out by these Fort Langley outings. Last time they went, my mum emailed me a photo of a bearskin rug.
This is how the conversation went later.
Me: Nice photo. We bears call that “bear terrorism.”
Mum: I thought it would make you laugh.
Me: Did “Silence of the Lambs” make you laugh?
Mum: Some bits of it.
Okay, so my mum is a freaking psychopath. She nevertheless has produced a useful justification for getting into the wine. I mean, what bear wouldn’t need to calm down after seeing something like that?
The wine in question is J. LOHR SEVEN OAKS CABERNET SAUVIGNON (2010). How a wine costing $22.99 entered our home is a point of dispute between my dad, who took my mother’s disappointment with a recent $11 bottle as a command to go and spend 100 percent more next time, and my mother, who has a “wish list” of $25+ wines but won’t ever buy any of them because of a pathological parsimony that, once early-onset dementia and $11 wine claim a few more of her brain cells, will probably eventuate in her cooking seagulls after they’ve choked on our garbage, and who therefore hotly disputes having had anything to do with my dad’s decision to buy the J. LOHR.
Needless to say, this dampened their enthusiasm for the bottle. Neither one made so much as a comment on its aromatic cherry notes, its glass-gripping body, or its ripe, jammy fruit swimming in vanilla-oak. It was biggish, almost lush, stopping short of hedonics however, and more or less thumbing its nose at us for parting with 23 bucks.
If anything, J. LOHR SEVEN OAKS is a consistent wine. From vintage to vintage, it holds up in its price range. It has a certain velvety smoothness that suggests fine attention and craft. On the tongue it could linger a little longer, but of course I can always just stick my paw in the glass and slurp it out of my fur. Because it’s my fur, damn it!
So I would buy it again, my fellow inebriates, but only when my mum ups the wine budget. Until then, there are plenty of decent wines that ring in under $15 and give J. LOHR a run for its money.
In the bathtub this morning: the most massive silverfish ever witnessed at LBHQ.
I wanted to put it in a cat carrier and send it to Stephen Harper as a pet, but instead my mother took a shower with it. So immense and robust was the silverfish, she reported, that it would not be nudged by mere water down the drain. Instead it filibustered by the hole until she aimed the showerhead right at it.
Now, ordinarily I would prefer not to have a play-by-play of any of my mother’s nude activities. But I like to monitor our silverfish situation—for a while, you may recall, I thought Fluffy Bear was summoning the creatures from some nearby Hell Mouth. He seemed to be marshalling them for some sort of arthropodic assault, an insect-amplified grief cry for our deceased Granny, whose bear he was before he came to live with us.
But then my dad sprinkled some white powder (instructing me not to even think about snorting it) around the baseboards, and the silverfish disappeared. For the most part. Those that survived his poisoning emerged larger, stronger, and more apt to wrestle you in the shower.
I think you’ll agree, my fellow inebriates, that the foregoing ramble warrants wine on at least four counts:
- Encountering a silverfish the size of a cat is traumatic.
- The mere notion of my mother in the shower is doubly so.
- Should Fluffy choose to summon armies of silverfish again, they will be formidable.
- Stephen Harper is still the prime minister of Canada.
Knowing that Stephen Harper probably wouldn’t think to reward us with, say, a bottle from the cellar at 24 Sussex Drive, I don’t feel so bad about failing to wrangle him a creepy new pet. Nor do I feel bad about busting the screwtop off a bottle of STARK RAVING RED. A big, jammy blend of Tannat, Zinfandel, Merlot, Cabernet, and Petit Syrah, STARK RAVING RED is gonzo with plums and cherries, filling the mouth with sweet, somewhat cloyingly boozy fruit. It’s not disciplined in the least, MFI, it’s in-your-face, as bold as a silverfish on steroids, but without scales or antennae. I liked it even though there wasn’t a chance of taming it, decanter or not.
Would I send a bottle to Stephen Harper? Not on your life. He probably drinks $100 wine every night. Nope…if I ever send him anything, it’ll be a cat-sized silverfish, and he can stroke it.
CUPCAKE SAUVIGNON BLANC (2011)—A quickie review because my head got bashed against the floor about 20 times this morning
My Fellow Inebriates,
The morning started with football. And I was the football. First P put a bracelet around my neck (so I’d be a pretty football). Then she and V had a tug-of-war (oh yes, with me) to see who got to throw me first. Then they beaned each other and the floor with me for ten minutes.
What were our parents doing? My dad was staring at his phone and halfheartedly telling them to stop. And OMG, my mother was making lunch for the kids, of all things. She couldn’t be bothered to intervene.
By now you know that I’ll be asking for wine. Such an incident demands wine. So what’ve we got?
CUPCAKE CABERNET SAUVIGNON (2011). With a name like that, a wine should be plump and comforting—a blast of heavy fruit riding on a 13.5% alcohol wave.
CUPCAKE was pretty much like that exactly. It’s sweet and enveloping—about as sophisticated as P and V’s understanding of kindness to animals—but nonetheless reasonably yummy and thankfully short on the gaminess we’ve found in our last few reds. CUPCAKE delivers the requisite comfort needed after a morning of animal abuse.
I’m sharing it with Purple Bunny, who got evicted from P’s bed today after she decided to put away childish things. Despite making a statement to this effect, P then proceeded to listen to Katy Perry.
She also cast Speedy out of her room. You remember Speedy, right? He could probably use a big glass of CUPCAKE. He liked it.