Entropy

As I have written before, I make an effort to craft an anniversary gift for Sara out of the material for that anniversary year. Though year two was supposed to be cotton (according to tradition), I got a bright idea and decided to make something out of wax. (I think I had been addled by the Pasadena smog.) In November of 2003, I went to Target and bought a huge cauldron-shaped candle. On the outside surface I etched the words "Happy Two Years Sara & Emrys, 22 Dec 2003." I then filled in the etching (here's where my hand-crafting came in) with red and green wax. When lit, the candle glowed from the inside. I thought it looked pretty cool. Here's a recent photo:

The easiest way to carry this candle was to pick it up by the top rim. However the candle weighed about ten pounds, and repeated liftings stressed the integrity of its structure. A couple of weeks ago it cracked and a large chunk came out of the circumference of the candle:

Sad day.

Quite frankly, the piece didn't do a lot of work in our household. We had to clear the coffee table to bring it out, and since its original wick died we had to put our own votives inside. As a result, it didn't get much use. So Sara and I agreed today that this gift, having fulfilled its purpose as expression of love, could be retired. Please play a round of taps, lift up a prayer to the Almighty, or have a Guinness--whatever might be your fitting salute to a gift that after five years finally gave up to the disorder of the universe.

Sara wants me to record that "retirement" does not mean "being thrown away." We try to give things more lives in this household. In the spirit of use-reuse-resurrect, Sara will be melting down those ten pounds of wax and making citronella candles for this summer. What more fitting way to say "Happy Anniversary" than to repel mosquitoes? I don't know of one.

~emrys