Unusual Release Notes

I received an offering this week for Hundred Acre’s 2015 Kayli Morgan. What follows is the entirety of the email (except for a few links and typical email stuff).

She stared deep into the glass, “Riedel of course” and thought “only the very best”.

This habit of the very best, was well within her means and always would be as she sat perfectly composed at the kitchen island, absorbing the golden light captured within the great and rare Burgundy. “This habit was going to cost her” she thought. Going over and over it in her mind, she planned and executed everything perfectly and sat stunned as she thought “how the hell did I forget my earrings… Leave without a trace” she mumbled and took another large sip of wine. “I was only there for 10 minutes” not a piece of hair, no skin exposed, no DNA.” But now she was missing an earring, a very fine handmade piece of jewelry in 22k gold with a two-carat flawless canary diamond. The legendary jewelers stamp microscopically placed in gold on the back. “Highly f*cking traceable everyday earrings” she mumbled with growing anger steeped heavily in her voice and in her soul. “The bastard deserved it, and more” she thought. “He took my sister” she whispered so quietly that no device could ever record the almost unspoken words.

The two years after she “disappeared without a trace or a will” in Canada, hiking the wilderness and very formidable West Coast Trail in Pacific Rim National Park. Before going they had talked about and read an article titled “How Not to Get Killed on the West Coast Trail” an interesting and staggeringly beautiful 75 kilometers of grueling, wet wilderness complete with ancient rain forests, cliffs, giant waves and rocks, bears, mountain lions and constant mud and cold. “Best viewed from a twin-engine jet Eurocopter with cold champagne at hand than any of that hiking nonsense” she thought.

Naturally, the journey was his idea, where else would an otherwise casual weekend hiking couple with a secretly unhappy marriage go to reunite? Especially when the wife needed relief from coding and running development for one the fastest growing software companies in the world. At employee number three with $1.4 billion worth of shares paid for and no willingness to cash out when she really-believed in her mission, the dedication was total. He was a criminal attorney and partner defending the wealthy scum of the earth, he did well, he could relate.

He believed in cold hard cash she thought and “Well I believe in cash too, especially the kind inherited from a father who made more for her than she could ever dent from the interest” she mused silently to herself. I also believe I loved summer camp and especially archery, the silence of the weapon was beautiful and graceful and they now made carbon fiber and titanium cross bows which delivered .357 knock down power and folded quickly into a small black backpack that everyone rode around with these days. Naturally on silent electric mountain bikes.

He was meticulous and a creature of habit, like a buck in the forest, predictable especially when observed from afar with the fine optics crafted by those German scientists at Leica.

He lived now, in great comfort, having sold her stock, behind walls with pools and security cameras which he turned off every Sunday evening at 5:00 pm with the #6769 code noting his birth year and the other number his favorite yoga instructors birth year, the same instructor who taught and befriended his now missing and declared dead wife. “My beautiful little sister” she thought, her anger forged like hardened steel, cold as winters night.

So, as usual and well before his swim he entered #6769 to deactivate all security systems as her arrival was best never recorded by cameras connected to the cloud and security service. She would arrive at 9:00 pm sharp as he required. “I will be gone in deep dusk at 6:30 pm sharp” she thought and she was.

The Burgundy in front of her was the start of a celebration which would begin around 8:00 pm when her friends would find her semi exhausted after making appetizers all afternoon and evening, they had all been prepared starting at 5:00 am. By all accounts she would have never left the house, her cell phone with location tracking sat on the kitchen island all day. Her brief departure was not recorded, her security system had been broken for weeks, apparently super magnets and hard drives should not be placed on top of each other. The magnets as it so happens had fallen into the ocean from a bridge weeks ago, one at a time while crossing on foot. God knows what was wrong with it she would tell the technician.

“All the planning and now it was a matter of days before the knock would come on the door, no way to escape the earring evidence” she thought and sighed. Well it was 7:00 pm and in one hour the guests would arrive to see her a bit tussled from cooking but looking proud that no caterers were ever considered. Silently she would know that the ledger had been rebalanced just enough for peace to return to heart.

“Well if it must be a ball of flames and scandal then it was time she broke out the heavy-duty artillery of the wine world and start having some fun” she thought and smiled until she reached up and touched her other earring now unmatched. “better change this before they arrive. This in mind she went upstairs changed and threw everything, sneakers and all into the washing machine. A new pair of earrings, down to the kitchen, some flour on the cuffs and all the cooking gear nearly cleaned she was a picture of hard work prior to a friendly party.

She knew the wine and had pulled out the case this afternoon and pried open the heavy built wooden lid with five stars burned into the top and the first line of Homer’s Odyssey inside. Hundred Acre – Kayli Morgan vineyard. The wine needed to come to room temperature and sat on the floor just inside her wine cellar door where she left the hefty six pack case.

Time was flying now and she looked at her watch and said “wow! Ten minutes to eight” she grabbed some 100% hand blown Riedel Extremes and placed them on the counter and several Champagne glasses and a substantial silver ice bucket and four bottles of Krug and two Bollinger 1990 vintage on both wines. In they went and a bag of ice from the freezer. Now she turned and walked straight to the case of Hundred Acre “God I love this wine, better savor it while I can” she said out loud. The first time she ever came close to a mistake, at this point it didn’t matter she was screwed and she knew it. She walked over to the large wine cellar door and opened it, walked over and closed the lid and hauled the heavy case out of the cellar and set it on the center island pushing the boring Burgundy aside. She grabbed a cork screw and set it beside the case. She slowly opened the lid and the 24K gold bands on the bottle glowed, the five gold stars glowed. The black almost enamel like raised lettering said HUNDRED ACRE. She then removed the two top cradles and lifted a bottle out and stared at it. Lost in thought for a moment she caught a glimmer and switched the bottle into her left hand using her right hand to reach into the case. A wave of relief and pain flowed over her and just as quickly a wave of pure joy. “There you are” she whispered quietly and picked up her flawless two-carat Canary diamond earring. She must have brushed it off when pulling out the case and opening the lid earlier in the day. The sound of the doorbell jolted her back and she kissed the earring and the bottle of Hundred Acre. The earring slid into her pocket and she walked bottle in hand to the door smiling as she whispered to herself “Looks like this Canary is not going to sing after all!”

Enjoy your Hundred Acre whatever the occasion.

Swing and a miss

That is 3 minutes of my life I can never get back


what the hell?

I hope he does a book a la SQN - these have gotten. weirder and weirder. Either a total genius that’s above my simpleton level of understanding or just full crazy.

Hope the wine is better than the writing.

Why is there never a good editor around when you need one? Keep the last para, distil the rest to a short para to set the scene.

Not at all pretentious. Reminds me of the kind of writing that was in Shibumi by Trevanian.

The main character in Shibumi had to stop having sex with women because after knowing they would never have the opportunity again they would commit suicide. Quite a burden for him I suppose.

Dang, I don’t remember that part.

My life has been just the opposite. [cheers.gif]

Jason of Hundred Acre is a neighbor. His releases notes and videos are legendary.

Are they trying to sell wine or Reidel stems?

I believe it’s a PSA.

“Apparently super magnets and hard drives should not be placed on top of each other.”