My daughter has discovered the inherent fascination of a flickering flame. She wants to keep a tea candle lit in her room tonight. She likes the smell. This is all well and good until her father comes home or the house burns down. She's blown it out and relit it about five times at this point. I just explained the term "pyromaniac" to her. Doesn't seem to have phased her in the least.
"I love this candle!"
We're headed to a Girl Scout sleepover tomorrow. The cold temperatures mean we'll sleep together as a troop in the big lodge instead of individual cabins or tents. The big lodge is where the huge, walk-in fireplace is. I'm sure you can see where my anxiety is centered this evening.
Here goes Trip #2 with the Hip Cool Moms (and my pyromaniac daughter). God grant me the strength.
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Oops...I forgot how it actually goes: "Tiger, tiger burning bright..." but I also like my version.
William Blake. 1757–1827
The Tiger
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
[...] there are like 3 or 4 or more stanzas...
i remember being obsessed with candles when i was young too!
i keep gorfetting to add you to my google reader so thanks for your comment- it reminded me and i will do it right now!
Girl scout camping. You're a brave woman!
Ugh! I'll post details at earliest opportunity. This was not as bad as the previous trip. If you have Girl Scout trip stories, I'd love to read 'em!!!
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