And Then There Was Wine

After grueling months of winding our way through the wine wilderness, we are ready.

We have knelt by our domestic manger cow and recited a litany of French appellations, "Pauillac, Pouilly Fuisse, Pommard, Puligny Montrachet...," like such sweet music from our mouths.

We have started speaking in purple-stained tongues, swirling and aerating, declaring that it is like "blueberry pie;" like "rotting apple laying in the dirt at the country fair;" like "cherry tootsie roll pop;" like "dung from a cow."

We have raised our arms to the sky and made offerings of bottle after bottle, night after night, which we, with honor and devotion, consumed in earnest, even when we thought we could consume no more.

We are ready for The Very First Tasting of Them All.