I was at the cozy bar in Torrington, CT. My wife was in the next seat. Since I had been freezing all day, I chose a seat away from the door and the window. There might be a chilly breeze blowing through the closed window…after all, our hotel window had leaks as bad as a pasta sieve. I thought that maybe that’s the way people liked things in Connecticut, those hardy New England yank types.
We were looking over the menu for dinner. For me, there was no choice, it was the chili. What else would anyone else eat on such a cold spring night?
I looked to my left and noticed three 12 inch candles sitting in a bed of wax. That’s not a big deal in most cases. Who hasn’t seen four dinner candles sitting in their own melted wax…and the wax of previous candles, in a New England…
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mariamve 