House of Wax

“How hard can it be?”, said Dave. “Don’t you just roll it?”. Oh yes, candle rolling, sounds simple doesn’t it. We had the wicks. We had the beeswax. We had the confidence. All we needed was a warm room. Oh, wait a minute, we live in a draughty Welsh farmhouse where warm rooms are in short supply. That explained why the first attempt was less candle rolling and more wax snapping. Dave had a brainwave - warm the wax sheets in the oven. Pop it in, just a low heat, don’t want to melt the wax. Whoopsie, forgot we’d just cooked dinner. That’ll be a tray of melted wax then.

Dave had a second brainwave - why don’t we just mould a candle instead of roll one ….

 

Hmm, maybe not. Not sure that purple dog turd candles make good Christmas presents.

Dave had a third brainwave. I wasn’t sure we had enough beeswax sheets left to cope with another Dave brainwave. The oven’s too hot, but what about using the open oven door as a warm rolling table.

Finally, a genius idea. Dave’s brainwaves are like buses – if you wait long enough one will turn up that takes you where you want to go!