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All Because Of A Candle

A week ago this past Friday, I stopped in Bog Lots with Mom.  I love browsing in that store! I don't always buy something, but I do more often than not. I think my original intention before we got there was to look for books (most are $2 & $3) but I'm easily distracted upon walking through those sliding glass doors!  I love Patriotic decor in our home from May through September 11th (some stays year round as it does in our northern home) and I immediately set out to get a closer look at what they had on display in the center of the store.  (Told ya, easily distracted!)


Large glass candles for $8!  Now that caught my attention.  Sniffing candles is dangerous business for me - one bad sniff and I've got a migraine!  But that bright red one... "Apple Cobbler."  Hm...  I chose to live dangerously, pulled the lid off and took a tentative sniff.

Instantly I was walking into my husband's family cabin again, in the summer, and greeted by the musty scent of warm wood with a hint of half burned apple cinnamon candles that had been in there for who knows how long.  My husband told me no matter the time of year, that apple cinnamon scent was always there.  (I had only been to the cabin 4 or 5 times, in the Autumn and Summer).

Watching hummingbirds fight over the feeder hanging on the chipped, white-gray porch. Sitting in awe as one of them hovered into the livingroom in front of me when the screen door was left open.  Watching the sunset from the wood frame window behind the 70s style, itchy couch that always had a cotton sheet draped over it.  Lying together on that couch, during our honeymoon, watching Jaws and getting the call that my mother.in.law had passed away.  From the kitchen doors, watching lights flicker out one by one as a thunderstorm approached and in the morning watching the fog lift & slide out of each valley as the sun rose higher.  Thunder that echoed & rattled forever as one clap bounced like a ping pong ball off the Endless Mountains peaks.  Reading by candle light after a storm knocked out the power.  Front porch sitting for hours, together, wood smoke in the air coming from the fire in the wood stove.  Autumn color as far as your eyes could see.  Slow dancing to country music coming from an old brown radio atop the fridge in the kitchen.

I can't believe the last time we were there was 4th of July, 2008.  I can't believe the cabin is gone now, no longer in my husband's family, sold earlier this year.

I put the lid back on that bright red Apple Cobbler candle.

And yes, I bought it.

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