Candles call me from their perch on the store shelf, each wanting a place in my home: Bergamot Tobacco, Pink Grapefruit, Bamboo Teak, Pineapple Ginger, Mango Tangerine, and Pomegranate Citrus. Some smell stong; some smell mild.

Pomegranate Citrus reminds me of the sepia photo that sits on my mother's dresser. My great-grandparents appear stoic beside their little girl, later to become my grandmother. They chose to stand in front of the pomegranate tree in the backyard. My eighty-two year old mother and her brother still laugh about eating that tart fruit and spitting the seeds in the lake as they crossed the bridge on their way to school. They could never decide which was worse, the pomegranate or school. Perhaps I will buy Pomegranate Citrus.

Bamboo Teak takes me back to the glow and aroma of teak polish as I prepared the cabin of the 27' Tartan class sailboat for the arrival of dinner guests. Perhaps I will buy Bamboo Teak.

I remember the status of my bank account and decide to leave the decision of which candle to buy for another day.