Candle up for Adoption

"Seeking new home for one Frosted Pumpkin, very fragrant Yankee Candle. Barely been lit, sugary, almost maple syrup-esque smell when burning. Husband cannot abide it's burning sweetness."

I bought this candle a few weeks ago, thinking that Frosted Pumpkin sounded like a great harvest-y smell for this time of year. The first night that it was burning Jonathan and I were making dinner. After about 20 minutes he looked at me and said, "What in God's name is that horrible odor?" I told him it was my new candle. "Please," he said. "No more. That is a wretched smell. It's like someone took a match to a bottle of Log Cabin. I can't handle it!" I agreed it was a bit of a strong scent and snuffed it out. But I really wanted to use it. It seemed a waste to just have it sitting on the counter unburned, proudly displaying its glossy, frosting bathed photo. I've been using it surreptitiously in my office during the evenings, but as of last night that jig is up. Jonathan finally begged me not to burn it anymore. Really begged. It's only fair that I accommodate his wishes. So with a heavy heart I'm offering it out there to anyone with an affinity for creme brulee and all things painfully sweet. I'll pay postage and provide a book of matches to whomever would like it.

Fall Gifts

Today I was riding a beautiful grey mare out through the fields that surround the seriously gorgeous property that we rent in Millbrook. What makes that special (besides the obvious)? The colors of the fields, sky, treeline, etc. were unbelievable! I wish I was more proficient with a camera, even of the cell phone variety, but alas, I'm not. These colors were of a palate that cannot be re-created by man, but I shall do my best to describe them. The meadow was a subdued golden hue of fading summer grasses, bittersweet vines had crimson berries on their wispy stalks, pale autumn leaves paved our path, blue jays and bright red cardinals darted thru the trees, causing the mare to snort and prance. The cobalt blue sky was the best sight of all, THE BEST. Only in autumn do we see a sky of this deep, unworldly color. We've all seen the bright blue skies of summer, but in autumn the sky of the late afternoon can turn a blue that makes a man/woman weep. I didn't weep, but instead I chose to take it in with as much appreciation and wonder that I could muster in my 41 yr. old somewhat compromised eyes. I even asked the mare to stop, pause, smell, ponder and after a few moments she pulled on the reins and we headed home. The moment was brief, but still palpable. Even on the eve of winter's grip, it's amazing to hack out through fields of gold and relish the magic of nature in the country. All my years of living in country surroundings could not prepare me to appreciate them at the level which I do now. Maybe it's the oncoming threat of winter that caused me to be so moved, but regardless, it was gift. And I'll cherish it, asking it to hold me over through the snow storms and icicles which will hold me hostage to the indoor ring. Until spring.