03 January 2016

Tradition: A Supper Candle

I had decided that our home, being slowly built, would be christened one tradition at a time. We would care for these gentle and life-giving breaths in our routine, would piece them together over months and years, and, eventually, our roles with tradition would reverse; no longer would we invent tradition, or need to insist on it in order to make it stick. Instead, someday, these things would look back at us and inform us what it was to be home. 

By the time there were children, we said, we would know ourselves and our house and our lives and we would be happy with those things, and that would be better for the children after all, we said, or resigned ourselves to...

And so time for just two, being in momentary abundance, sometimes maddening abundance, would demand that we should start the traditions.

-- Came the first: the supper candle. 

A wee & wonky brass candlestick -- best adorned with taper, or votive when out of taper, or tealight when desperate -- would be lit at each dinner. Meals painstakingly made or quickly thrown together or takeout, each one a candlelit event --

and so it was, and so they were.  


  1. I love this idea so much. I kind of get all teary over here, because of it.