Also chocolate-covered grasshoppers to represent the locusts, with baby bottles of cab to represent the Red Sea. Passover Baskets: not for pansies. Or kids, apparently.

We spent the better portion of a gorgeous, sunny Easter Zombie Christmas Sunday in Napa, which was fitting, you know, because Jesus had that whole water-into-wine thing, and Napa is renowned for, uh, turning grapes into wine using water to grow grapes to be turned into wine (ta-da!). Also Jesus was held up by a cross. And Napa wineries have wooden structures sort of shaped like crosses that hold up the vines. Yeah.

Anyway, the ironic bit was how I got and finished being drunk all before we even got within the Napa Valley limits. That 808 drink I mentioned in the last post? TheNoah paid for it and I felt guilty for not drinking more than two bitter-faced sips after I opened it, so I stuck it in the fridge and then carried it out to the car with me Sunday morning, thinking I don't know what. Open-container laws and what-have-you. And then I set it on the floor and got out to rummage through the trunk for something and it spilled (TheNoah swears I jostled it; I adamantly blame a shift in the gravitational axis for causing the bottle to knock itself over), but by the time it was rescued, it was still at least half-full. And in a moment of frazzled irritation, I just downed what was left.

I'd only been awake for about two hours and it had been at least 14 hours since I'd last eaten. And I think it had been over a month since I'd had anything else alcoholic (ever the lush, I know).

Cue: drunk on Zombie Christmas Sunday. Before noon.

But did I mention the weather was beautiful? We took the top off his car and stopped by Trader Joe's and bought cheeses, Spanish Champagne-style wine, a loaf of artisan bread, strawberries and dark chocolate. Basically, I was only a scarf-wrapped-around-my-head away from us being a scene in a 1940s film.

And Napa was, as everyone says, lovely. We secured a spot on a grassy, tree-dotted lawn at V. Sattui and ate and drank and watched cute kids dressed up in festive Sunday attire run around and play (we decided we're going to start making Passover baskets, with little chocolate baby Moseses to represent the basket in which he was sent down the river and discovered) and it was a perfect, perfect introduction to the valley. I'm pretty sure it would get a stamp of Zombie Jesus approval, no problem.