posted by Lily on homely

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There was going to be lots of quilting today.  Pinning out an old quilt top onto a newly thrifted woollen blanket.  Machine quilting it at the kitchen table – whilst the cats are away, this mouse will play! Using the left over blanket to quilt a pretty linen tea towel into a pretty table runner.  Ah yes.  There were plans and they were good.  Sturdy safety pins were located.  Ecru quilting thread was purchased.

Alas, absolutely none of it happened.  All because I emptied the kitchen compost.  You see, we keep the standard small bucket on the kitchen bench to collect the compostable scraps and these are taken to the big compost bin in the garden every few days.  However, the compost has not been going well lately – no matter how much we put in, it never seems to grow in size, in fact, it’s shrinking.  Then, last weekend, we discovered why!  A family of grey mice have constructed a rodent friendly tunnel from their home to our compost bin.  Let me tell you, they are the fattest, laziest mice.  When we take the lid off now, they just peer up boldly, watching to see what goodies we are delivering today!  The nerve!

So, I took out the compost, said hello to the micelings and decided to liven things up for them a bit.  Four hours later I was filthy, with an achy back, lots of tears in the skin of my hands but a very neat garden.  I collected all the stones and bricks from around the garden and filled in the micelings’ tunnels and created a partly dug-in rocky perimeter for the compost bin.  I raked all the leaves and filled said compost bin – it needed a good dose of dry.  I pruned (a.k.a. destroyed) the revolting, insidious, weedy vine that was crawling all over the magnolia tree and trellis – that was super fun and responsible for the skin tears ’cause the vine has THORNS and I couldn’t find the gardening gloves.  Seriously, it was darn satisfying.  I would clip, clip, clip clip, then unwind, unwind, unwind, unwind, grab a handful of the wretched vines, yank hard and long as I walked backwards and down would come another huge clump of ferny yuck that was covering the roof of the lean-to and magnolia.  I even got to use the ladder – even more satisfying. You should see it now, woo-hoo!  Tomorrow I will take the spade to it and dig out the stumpy remains but tonight, the trellis is clear and the magnolia, proud and elegant in its bareness, its branches tipped all over with velvety buds.

And with spring only a few months away, Abby and I are all het up about our garden plans.  We hope to start this weekend – clearing beds and preparing soil, and raising some seeds in egg cartons.

Thus,  all I have for show and tell are the candles I made yesterday afternoon.  Candles make my evenings – especially beeswax ones – and yesterday, as I was driving home from my thrifty outing, I realised that a street I was about to drive past was where the beekeeping supply shop is.  I haven’t visited this shop for 8 years – truly, I’m amazed I remembered.  It hadn’t changed a bit and I bought a lovely, fragrant bundle of beeswax sheets and four metres of wick.  Mmmmmm ….

I have made candles using melted wax but it always scares me slightly ’cause of all the warnings of burning wax etc. so rolling my own beeswax candles is just my cup of tea.  If you haven’t tried it before, here’s the incredibly simple and instantly satisfying lily method …

assemble your supplies :: sheets of beeswax, wick, scissors for cutting the wick, and your own nice, warm hands.

cut wick to size and press firmly into the sheet :: I usually allow a couple of centimetres at the top and position it 1/4 inch in on the short edge, whatever end, doesn’t matter.

fold 1/4 inch edge over wick and press firmly :: Very Egyptian this bit – I feel like I’m mummifying the wick :-)  When you fold over the edge, it may well crack ’cause it’s such a sharp edge but that’s okay.  Meld the cut edge firmly into the sheet, using the warmth of your hands to make a nice seal.

roll :: Now the trick here is to keep it super firm.  Obviously, I do not squat on my footpath to roll my candles – I just put it here ’cause the photo looked nice and my light in the kitchen is crap.  So, roll the candle on the kitchen bench where you can use your body weight to press down as you roll.  You don’t want to flatten it, but you want to keep the beeswax sheet as tight as possible, again using the warmth of your hands to press each new layer into the former.  If you leave gaps between the layers, your candle will just collapse when it’s lit.  You can add more than one layer – I have here.  I broke the beeswax sheet in half so I had two long narrow pieces.  For the join, start the new piece butting up against the old piece and meld together nice and firm.

Now, it’s nice if you have some grated beeswax melting on the stove that you can dip both ends of the finished candle in to seal.  But I don’t – I forgot to buy that bit and haven’t a clue where any is around here.  It’s not essential – looks nice – but I find the candle lasts just as long with or without.  It does make a difference to the initial burning of the wick – when the proud wick is dipped in melted wax, it burns evenly.  When it isn’t, it sizzles dramatically until the flame reaches the candle, then settles into a nice steady burn.

So, pop your candle into a holder or glass …

thrifted glasses, $1 each – cool!

and light!

At this height and thickness (5 inches tall and 2 across) they will only burn for 4 or 5 hours before dissolving into a glorious puddle of molten, honeyed loveliness.  But then you get to make some more.  Oh!  And keep the puddle – ’cause you can melt it on the stove (in a bowl over gently boiling water) and use for dipping the ends of your next candle.

Ooooh they smell sooooo good and fill my heart with sweetness.