Wick Calibration

Returning home from the park basin, I brought my attention back to the beeswax candle I rolled this morning. It rested upright on a heavy slate coaster, but the braided cotton wick extended an unruly half-inch above the crown. An unmeasured wick invites erratic combustion and unnecessary smoke. Stepping onto the dark oak surface, I retrieved a pair of miniature brass snips and squared my stance before the wax pillar. Setting the cold blades flat across the plane exactly one-quarter inch above the rim, I delivered a single, decisive squeeze. The frayed tip sheared off cleanly into the catch dish, leaving the wick plumb and primed for an orderly burn.