I Melt with You
We've had this little travel-sized, traditional-styled Chanukah menorah for
at least as long as I can remember.
I'm fonder of it with every passing year, not just for the memories but for how its collection of "battle scars" — little bits of leftover wax, never completely scraped off the arms and base or entirely gouged out of the little cups that hold the candles —
have accreted over the years to give it some extra character.
Still... The Jackson Pollack craziness that's occurred over the past few nights is kind-
of ridiculous. I'm guessing based on the permutations of candles and menorahs four nights in that either the smaller candles used are just outright cheap or they've undergone some chemical process while sitting in a drawer for however long.
On the first night, I used the small candles in the small menorah, and while the shamash — the middle candle, used to light the others (which by the last night will number eight) — was fine, the candle representing the first night looked like it forgot to close its eyes at the climax of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
On the second night, we swapped in a funky menorah that we've also had forever and placed some taller, fancier candles in it. I took the picture that you see right after they were lit, but no grotesque melting ensued as they burnt out.
On the third night, I placed the smaller candles in the funky menorah, and again they burned quickly while shedding wax tumors.
On the fourth night, I went back to the little traditional menorah and more distorted melting ensued. Some of the sloughed-off wax of candles next to one another began to intermingle, as you can see below, and in fact right after I took that picture the flames of the candles representing the second night and third night — counting from right to left, just as text is read in Hebrew — merged as well.
Next year I'm definitely going to get some new candles for the miniature menorah, hopefully in one of those little blue boxes that have been a part of Chanukah for me just as long as the menorahs themselves.
Photos © 2011 Brian Saner Lamken.