Snug Candles is Open!

Oh, how this feels like a long time coming!

If you've been a reader of Snug for a while now, you'll know that just under two years ago I put together this post about making candles for Christmas. You know, living in London and wanting to do something crafty in the winter months, it made sense! I salvaged every empty jam jar going and used a million and one different graphics ideas on Pic Monkey for my labels. It was like a Blue Peter mad house in the cabin, I can tell you. I melted and mixed any number of oil combinations to recreate scents I remembered from my childhood; that feeling of quiet contemplation before bed; the heady scent of a summer garden; throwing freshly washed sheets on the bed.

It was a stab in the dark, but I loved doing it. Even when a bottle of essential oil slipped out of my hands onto the electric hob - whoosh! Up it went in flames. Thank god for those 'anti-fire' ads in the late 90s. Our little wooden cabin was saved with a wet tea towel and I escaped with singed hair and a pump of adrenaline!

I always come back to making candles. I've adapted and changed them in various forms for many a month now and in the past few weeks, it's all come together. Over summer myself and Muma Snug worked on stock in the kitchen, branding was sorted and a concept decided upon. Ladies and gentleman - Snug Candles is open on Etsy!


The Most Colourful Girl Gang in Town

Wow! Just look as this colourful bunch.

I thought it was high time I dedicated a blog post to the fantastically bright and brilliant ladies I spent a Sunday with the other week. I know, I know, you're thinking 'the other week?! That's a MILLENNIA in blogging time!' Oh my god, I know, I'm awful, but but but... I've been really busy?! I HAVE been really busy. Not so busy that I have had literally no time to blog, but so busy that when I do have free time, I let my brain switch off and my body just sinks into the sofa with no desire to pick up a laptop. Well let me tell you friends - that time is NO MORE. 

My first month in Yorkshire has been a massive process of adapting to a new place/new job/new flat/new working life. I'm sure most of you know by now, but I'm a teacher in my day job and THE RUMOURS ARE TRUE. It is legit exhausting. I don't work crazy long hours, but when I come home I pretty much step into my pyjamas at the same time as taking my shoes off. 

It's scary and exciting moving to a new place. A new place that's really far from anywhere you've lived before. A place where you don't know anyone. Where the accent is weird and no one can place where I'm from. It's daunting. Massively so. But, you know what's made it a whole lot better? Getting to meet those lovely lot above.  


We Made the Move to Yorkshire!

Hi there! Are you receiving from Yorkshire? You are?! Great!

I made it! Not without a few bumps along the way, but alas, I am here! In my last post I mentioned that the packing was a slow process, but you know what? It turned from a slow process to a 'OH MY GOD WE CAN'T FIT EVERYTHING IN THE VAN YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE WHAT TO LEAVE BEHIND!' process. My potted plants didn't make it. My cake stand didn't make it. My oven gloves didn't make it. I am using a tea towel to get things out of the oven and everyone knows that is DICING WITH DEATH!

It's not all bad, as the remaining bits are being driven up in a few weeks time when my chap joins me in our swanky new pad. Speaking of the pad... it's huge! Well, it's not that huge, but when you've come from a majorly over-priced bedroom in South London with six people sharing a tiny kitchen and one bathroom, a place to your own feels positively palatial. Our flat is in a converted Georgian house, and after referring to my backlog of period dramas and Joe's architecture knowledge, we've established that our entire flat is made up of the house's original drawing room. You know, the place where the maid puts you before the Lady of the house skims down the stairs; cheeks freshly pinched to greet you. That said, we have enough room to swing a cat, which is great considering we couldn't swing a hamster before.
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