I have this friend. Let's call her Halle. She is gregarious and fun and, like me, enjoys a good day of pickin'. We've had several good adventures together in the name of treasure hunting including that one time we went to an estate sale at a house in the woods which could have doubled for the set of a B-list horror film. I kid you not there were signs all over stating "Enter at your own risk". It was creepy and thrilling all at the same time. While out rummaging, we've been known to take candy from strangers and to make friends with a very diverse assortment of folks. Junking can really bring people together. We are a community of like-minded souls, all searching for fulfillment or The Holy Grail, not sure which. It doesn't really matter much anyway because it's all in the journey and with whom you share it.

One day Halle calls and states, "Pick me up. We're going to a sale." I comply and we roll up to a nice looking house in a nice suburban neighborhood. This particular sale happens to be run by the same men who had run the sale in the creepy house. They are nice guys. I'm telling you this because if they weren't nice guys this story may not have ended the way it does.

I don't know if there are rules about being a buyer at an estate sale, written or unwritten. If there are, I am fairly certain that picking through the trash on the grounds of the estate sale is probably on the "do not do this" list. Regardless, since each of us has broken a rule or two somewhere along the way, we decide the pile out by the trash looks enticing enough to warrant a closer inspection and a possible rule infraction. There were some interesting looking items out there!

So with a gentle misty rain beginning to fall, we start rummaging...through bags of trash. We aren't animals so we make sure we are neat about it and will clean up after ourselves. I am about halfway through the first bag and I hear the familiar clink of bottles. I carefully pull the bottles out of the bag one by one. The first bottle is a completely sealed and unopened bottle of a nice white wine. "Halle", I exclaim, "Look what I found!". "Keep digging", she replies, "Maybe there's more." And, indeed, there was more. As I extract the second bottle, I'm giddy at the discovery of another bottle of wine. After the archeological dig is concluded, I believe our bounty included about 4 bottles of wine and two bottles of champagne. 

At some point, our joyous laughter attracted the attention of one of those very nice men who runs the estate sale. He was incredulous as to why two completely normal looking women were wildly tearing through the trash like raccoons outside a restaurant at midnight. As we displayed the loot we unearthed, he explained when they are organizing a home for a sale they are required to throw away any alcohol. They are not permitted by law to sell it and they are also not permitted to take it. We, on the other hand, are free to claim our bounty. Remember I told you they were nice guys?

So, we loaded up my car with our garbage pickins and christened our bottles our "trash wine". We decided to stash the wine and champagne in my garage fridge and save it for some summertime driveway drinkin'. 

That beautiful summertime driveway drinkin' kind of day rolled around and we popped the cork on our "trash champagne". We gleefully toasted to our successful haul from that day as our kids ran around in the street like wild banshees as kids are wont to do during the summer. We were oblivious to their antics as we were caught up in our reverie of not only finding The Holy Grail but also having enjoyed the journey.

So, cheers to champagne wishes and garbage pickins! May you find your Holy Grail, whatever it may be, or at the very least, enjoy your journey with a good friend.