When I got home from the pool, I pulled it out to light it. No lighter. No matches. Not even two sticks to rub together.
I smoked for 40 years. I had lighters and matches all over the house, in every purse, in every pocket. After they made all the lighters childproof, I got my friend to send me a truck load from Hong Kong where they are fine with firey children. I had those in piles everywhere. My friend, John who worked on several Olympic games, sent me lighters by the bundle from those games. I know there are still some of those in the house, but... I have no idea where they are. And a search everyfreakinwhere did not turn up one of them.
I went to college in the world's smallest town. It was 45 minutes down a twisty mountain road to the big city. That big city was Wheeling, WVA. Seriously, we were smack dab in the middle of nowheresville. There was one teensy general store that was the only place to buy anything. We always made sure we had cigarettes. We'd stock up at home (I was from North Carolina where they were $2.00 a carton, I was EVERYONE's BFF.) or when we went to the big city.
But, more than once, we hit a fire drought. The tiny general store ran out of matches and so did we. We would go for weeks with no way to light up. It was pretty hilarious. We'd grab out cigs and head out looking for someone with a lit one onto whom we would pounced like mad dogs. We burned off bangs lighting them from an electric stove. It was pretty hilarious. I remember my friend, Beth, once saying that she was going to buy a dozen Zippos with her first paycheck. Maybe that's actually where my lighter hoarding started!
You can't really light a candle from an electric stove now. Especially one with a ceramic top. Finally, I remembered the long fire lighter which I had tucked with the spare fake logs in the fireplace. It was covered with soot but, it fired right up and the candle is going fine now. Crisis averted. This time.