"Let's drip together": Roja Parfums sandalwood candle, and thoughts on all things hot and bothered

It seems to have been hot for as long as I can remember - easily since time immemorial - though realistically it has probably only been two weeks so far, with a further heatwave forecast for the next two. I could well say it is too hot to blog, as my office upstairs is an absolute sun trap, and there are times of day when the glare on the screen makes my desktop computer unusable. Well, I do have a Venetian blind, but it is such a faff interacting with cords, and a bunch of bunched up slats invariably lands on my head in the process. So I just accept a lesser window of computer activity, and a greater window of doing jobs round the house and in the garden.

Then later this month I am going to the 60th birthday party of a friend in London, and although the date is still a way off, my mind turned to possible presents for him. Thinking about it, the train fare was rather steep this time, so my presence may have to be a major part of his present, as it were. ;) Anyway, the first idea I had was this Roja Dove candle, which I have had for a while now. I always meant to give it to someone, as it is an inherently gifty sort of item that is suitable for pretty much anyone, except people who only like silver or who think that burning candles is an environmentally suspect practice (see my post on Aldi's scented candle range, which touches on this very matter). I had carefully kept the candle in its protective bubble wrap bag, but when I went to pick it up I noticed spots of what looked like black ink on the packaging, but which was of course molten black wax. Eeeugh, was my first thought, as I quickly discarded the wrapping and considered the candle itself. The label was also splattered in spots of black wax, while the surface had started to pool and bubble, not unlike a very sluggish geyser.

So clearly Roja Dove the candle has got a little bit hot under the collar in this weather, and sadly must be demoted forthwith from gift status. I was jolly interested to see how readily it started to melt though, even without the application of any incendiary material, like a match, say! Someone could write a bestselling song about the phenomenon, calling it 'Candle in the sun'...IAnd it is also a bit like the sunshine equivalent of that cake in MacArthur Park - though obviously substitute candle for cake and black wax for green icing.

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain

Ooh, rain, that would be novel?!

Anyway, this got me thinking about the trials and tribulations generally of being hot. I am managing to function by dint of sleeping only under a sheet, and changing my clothes a lot, but from time to time I do worry about my perfume collection. It is all upstairs in the warmest part of the house - in the dark, admittedly, in a variety of drawers and wardrobes - but the ambient temperature is still too warm. Are you experiencing unusually high temperatures where you are at the moment? And if so, have you altered the storage arrangements of your perfume collection?

I think I am going to do something about mine sharpish. And I guess I have the dripping Roja candle to thank in fact for bringing it home to me in such a dramatic fashion quite how hot it has got in my home...!

Ooh, it's left a little puddle!

Impure White Linen And Heat Related Environmental Havoc

Today I did intend to write about the scented side to the latest Bonkers Road Trip, but it has been unbearably hot in my office. Indeed the heat sparked off a whole new perfume crisis this morning, and fuelled this impromptu post.

You see, I decided to wear Pure White Linen today, which is the "casual" signature scent of my cousin's wife. I offered to find her younger daughter (aged 24) a new perfume, as she doesn't like anything she has tried in the shops and defaults to borrowing her older sister's CK IN2U instead.

The only other thing I know about my relative's fragrance preferences is that she considers Pure White Linen to be "nice", but a bit "old". I think I know where she is coming from with this comment, as Estee Lauder as a house has a bit of a preppy, deck-shoe-and-Chino's-kind of a vibe, which a 20-something person might understandably construe as "old".

So I sprayed on some PWL in order to understand exactly what kind of "old" I should avoid in my fragrance recommendations. But to my dismay I discovered that my mini of it had gone off. Instead of that bright, breezy, slightly soapy floral I remembered, there was dead flower water and a nasty alcoholic tang. It has not been long since I spotted that my mini of Agent Provocateur had gone the same way, so I started to suspect the recent heatwave was taking its toll.

For though - exactly a year ago - I invested in a small beer chiller for the bulk of my collection (well, probably 60% by volume), that still leaves a fair few bottles, minis and samples languishing in dark (but currently decidedly warm) drawers!

So I spent the morning clearing out all the perfume from the bedside units and re-homing it in the storage room behind the garage, which is not cold as such, but is a few degrees cooler at least.

This is the room where Mr Bonkers stores some of his gear, so it was not long before he came across the interloping carrier bags of perfume in the middle of the floor, and inquired whether this was a permanent move. He seemed satisfied by my assurance that it was only an interim measure, and we got to talking about our plans for the day.

"Well" he began, "obviously I am going to watch the England match, and I could really do with some kind of fluid, but I am too hot to move."

"To move where?"

"Er...to the shop, for example."

"Okay, I don't mind going, and I'll pick up some fresh food while I am there."

By way of background, no one has done a proper supermarket trip since before I went away some five weeks ago, and just this weekend, I caught Mr Bonkers contentedly scavenging off family-sized tubes of Pringles and a packet of caramel digestives.

"Fresh food?" he exclaimed, his voice quivering with alarm. "But that might disturb my delicate ecosystem!"

In the end I coaxed him into eating an egg/cheese/hummus salad, with new potatoes and baby corn on the cob. (I cannot bring myself to use the term "cobette".) Mr Bonkers ate with relish and remarked that his ecosystem appeared to have emerged relatively unscathed by the sudden influx of nutrients.

I wish I could say the same for the now Impure White Linen and the other casualties of my "them and us" curating system. For in the unequal ecosystem I have devised for my perfume collection, the scents stored at ambient temperatures are left to take their chances when it gets really hot at the top of the house.

I guess the overspill could just colonise the kitchen fridge. When I got home last weekend it only contained milk, margarine, beer and a single onion (I had put there). So there is just a chance that Mr Bonkers will never notice...