I’m such a sap when it comes to certain childhood memories and traditions. Take our yearly trips to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, for example. To this day, my list of favorite things to do hasn’t changed much. For starters, give me a visit to the Ole Smoky Candy Kitchen, a footlong corndog from Fannie Farkles, a few rounds of putt-putt at Hillbilly Golf and I’m a happy camper.
Topping them all, though, are my most favorite memories from the Candle Cottage. Because nothing says childhood memories like being able to dip your own candle in a vat of hot colorful wax. Am I right?
Following every visit, I brought home a new candle, hand-dipped by moi. Some years I dipped a mouse. Other years I came home with a bear. Some years they were pink. Other years they were green or blue. I’m not sure what was harder: deciding on the candle or the color. Ultimately, I suppose the struggle had its own part to play in these yearly memories. And the magic of transforming a molded piece of white wax into a colorful character never wore off.
At some point along the way—I suspect I was a young adult—the owners did away with the dip-your-own option, That demise also marked an end to my Candle Cottage visits.
Until last weekend.
Because the moment I saw the sign, “Dip Your Own Candles”, I beelined into the shop, dragging Colton right along with me. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how thrilled 16-year-old guys get about candle-making. 😉 He was a fairly good sport about it, though. Even if I was unable to talk him into trying it for himself.
Not much has changed in the dip-your-own-candle world. The smell of hot wax is the same. Picking a candle is certainly not any easier—with a host of new molded wax figures to choose from, it’s harder than ever. Choosing a color provides the same conundrum, as well. In case you’re wondering, I went with the bear. Dipped him in the brown. Three times. And it was as magical on this day as it was back then.