Oct 20

A couple of days ago we made our first ever wedding purchase (well, our first joint one, I already made one purchase on my own and my better half seems to like it on her finger) by forking out for some sealing wax and a little stamp. The idea is that we’ll put cute little wax seals on the envelopes for the wedding invites, to give the whole thing an old fashioned feel. It’s actually cooler than it comes across in my description, and it will look good come the time we have to actually roll the things out for real, but my first attempts have been…well…interesting.

First off, I should point out in my defence that this sort of thing isn’t easy. You have to hold a lighter to a stick of wax, melt a few drops onto the paper, then hold the stamp on it for a few seconds. This gives the seal an image (in this case, a pair of entwined hearts) and makes it something artful instead of something that just happened to drip onto some paper. For those of you keeping count, that is three things that need to be held in this operation, and unless I’ve been looking at things the wrong way round, we only have two limbs with holding doohickeys attached. So there has to be a little shuffle midway through – spark the lighter, melt the wax, drip the wax, drop the wax, pick up the stamp, stamp the wax before it becomes this hard blob on the paper, pull the stamp off before it sticks to the paper and then take a bow, you’ve just done the napalm shuffle.

So first attempts set the paper on fire, or resulted in a torrent of scalding hot wax dripping onto my fingers, or the lighter, or the table, pen, paper, unlucky cat…pretty much anything. And don’t let that Madonna movie fool you – dripping wax isn’t remotely erotic, it’s fucking hot and it fucking hurts. Then further attempts set the paper on fire which again, isn’t remotely erotic. All through it though, all through the burns, the panic and the borderline pyromania, I stuck with it, and I can now seal a letter with wax as well as any member of the middle ages royalty ever could. Hell yeah, I’d own every damn one of them in the wax stakes. However, last night I was practising a little more and realised that when the wax stick is down to a centimetre or so long, it’s really not a good idea to hold it over a lighter and try to melt it, because all you’re really doing there is trying to set your fingers on fire. Damn near succeeded, too.

So I’m off now to commit more crimes before the fingerprints on my left hand manage to come back in. When Churchill spoke to the British people about the war that was coming their way, he was honest and told them that all he had to offer was “blood, sweat, toil and tears” which is fine for a war, but I never thought I would have to start thinking about a wedding in those terms. Then again, I never thought I would be stupid enough to try to set fire to my left hand using a lighter held in my right one, so obviously there are a whole heap of developmental steps happening to me right now and I shouldn’t take anything for granted.

Still wouldn’t swap this for the world though.

2 Responses to “And the scary thing is, I have a degree”

  1. Kelly Says:

    That’ll look so cool on the invitations. I say it’s worth the pain and now you have an additional skill to pad out your resume. It’s a win-win.

  2. Lorna Says:

    Ah, the learning path; it will indeed be very cool and I hope to get a virtual one…

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