I've been busy burning down my dining room table over the holidays. It wouldn't have been such a bad thing. I hated that table anyway. The problem is that my husband has been lecturing me for years not to leave candles burning when I leave the house. "You're going to burn the house down someday." Yeah, Yeah. HE WAS RIGHT. (he made me put that in caps).It wasn't the whole house, though. It would have been 3 minutes later. And if only the fire hadn't involved that dreaded seven letter word: "c-a-n-d-l-e-s". That's another sore subject around my house. I'm a self confessed candle junkie. Okay, I am an addict. I usually have 3-4 candles burning at all times. Dave has issued a candle ultimatum for 2010: either stop buying candles or join a 12 step program. I have hidden candles in every closet, cupboard and drawer in my house. I can no longer come up with creative or convincing arguments why I need just one more candle. I have enough candles to last me until Jesus returns. And so the Saturday after the candle incident, I scurried off in a fluster to buy a new dining room table for the room we only step foot in twice a year. Did I just say "new" table? I meant a shabby, old, well loved table. You see, that was the problem with the burned down table. It was "new". It was shiny. It was expensive. I hated it. (May she rest in peace). So it has been replaced with a farmhouse style table made from reclaimed wood. Old table and chairs - $2700. "New" table and chairs - $470. Happy husband- priceless
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