Candle Shopping.

"Yankee Candle" is to candles what Starbucks is to coffee - you can hate it, but you can't escape it. The difference is you can actually get tasty overpriced coffee at Starbucks, while Yankee Candles are mostly disgusting. Not all of them, but most of them. Their Christmas collection is a case in point - there are no pure, simple Christmas scents among them. There's a pine scent that will clear your sinuses, like huffing Pine Sol. There are various blends of scents that smelled gross. There are various sweet, cloying odors that smell like Santa's elves got loaded on powerful eggnog and rich desserts and then barfed into the candle molds. They do not have a simple bayberry candle, let alone a simple taper - if you can't sell it by the vat and preferably add on the butt-ugly painted ceramic holders and lids and such, there ain't enough profit, I guess.

While Murphy was at the groomer's, I walked the mall. Yankee Candle has squeezed out every other candle brand, except for those no-name things from China with asbestos in the wicks, the ones that will turn the ceiling and your lungs black. Murphy was done by the time I had thrown in the towel. I came home and let my fingers do the walking on The Google, and found real hand-dipped bayberry tapers at Southern Lights in St. Augustine. And I somehow resisted the urge to get in the car and go pick them up in person. (Boy, that was hard because I adore St. Augustine, but it is two hours each way and it was already noon.) Instead I called the shop and asked if she could still ship to get them to me in time for Christmas Eve if I ordered today. And she said that she's shipping the out of state orders today and she will ship her in-state orders tomorrow, so I ordered my bayberry tapers. St. Augustine is an overnight mail delivery from here, so even allowing for the Christmas rush I should have them by Friday. And I will take a weekend trip up there with Cousin C soon, and stop in to shop in person. I can't believe I've never visited her shop, candle-holic that I am. I will correct that mistake shortly.

I've been out of work less than a week and I'm already losing my mind. I am not well-suited to this life of leisure. Tomorrow I have the pond repair guy coming to assess the fix to my pond - I know it needs a UV filter, and he has worked on L's pond and she was very pleased. So as part of the house fix-up, I am going to finally get the pond worked on by professionals. He takes credit cards. Then I'm meeting L for a beer, to exchange Christmas gifts. We're so touchingly cute and girly that way, we will do our gift exchange over beer and wings.

Unemployment and weight loss, or rather stress and weight loss- despite mostly sitting on my ass and feeling sorry for myself for the last week, I've lost a pound and a half. Yesterday and today I finally started dragging the Murphinator for his much-bitched-for Walkies. He's learning the truth of "be careful what you wish for," because his mother has morphed into a ruthless Yorkie walker. His freshly groomed self is now snoring.

Oh, and the other upside of Dudley moving out - Murphy got groomed today and was not promptly rolled in the dirt and licked all over to put the familiar smells back. I can let his coat grow out, too, into a more traditional Yorkie look, instead of sheared chubby sheep. And if we keep up this walking habit, he'll lose the chubbiness fast, and get his formerly trim self back. (Me too.)


He does wander the house now and then and look at me all confused, I think he has figured out that Dudley should have come home by now but didn't. Girl reports that Dudley is learning his new neighborhood and adjusting nicely, though he still has to work out the pecking order with the big dog. Hopefully without getting his ass kicked. Worrying grandma would of course overprotect him, so I'm keeping my distance as he learns that he isn't the big dog anymore.