Have you ever daydreamed about being surrounded on all sides by your favorite thing, be it book, food, puppies, brand of clothing, whatever? When I was a kid I had a serious candy cane addiction. One Christmas I bought a friend a specialty candy cane the length of my forearm (now, as an adult), then wanted it so bad I ate part of the crook and then STILL GAVE IT TO HER.

Yes, the memory of it still burns me with shame. (Sorry, Heidi.)

I used to go outside, look around, and try to imagine the entire world carved out of peppermint. The lawn would ripple red and white, giving way to wider stripes on our house, or pure white peppermint when it snows. And then I imagined eating it all the time. All day, every day. I literally wanted to lick a doorway into our house.

I worked Sunset’s International Wine Competition for four days this week. (6,000 bottles of wine do not move themselves, my friends. Nor do those bottles open themselves, pour themselves out, or push themselves down an uneven tiled hallway to the waiting rock stars of the wine world.) At one point, I looked around at the unrelenting sea of bottles and realized this is that daydream come to life. And honestly, the abundance was hard to fathom. It became silly.

I’m writing this at my dining room table where I can see two boxes and four tote bags filled with dozens of open, half-drunk bottles from the competition and it still seems silly. But I’m using them as an object lesson of grace. The grace of surprise windfalls and unexpected excess. And to remind the person inside of me who has a hard timing accepting good things that it’s ok to receive. No, it’s completely necessary to receive.

It’s also completely necessary to have friends come help us enjoy the excess. Does anyone want to come over for a silly wine tasting bash?