Reporting to you live from my parents' house - I came home for an appointment and decided to stay a couple days. My brother and his girlfriend will join me on the return home, to check out the Toronto Maple Leafs training camp in Bedford this weekend. And hopefully they will give in to my need to stop at the Masstown Market and get doughnuts. And lemonade. And possibly supper.
However, I'm not feeling particularly sunny or happy even with the potential for gobbling all of the treats in the Masstown Market bakery in my future. It began on Wednesday night, when I went downstairs to obtain some food for supper - and discovered a pair of chairs in my father's workroom. It's not unusual to find things in the process of being refinished in his workroom, but I knew these chairs. These chairs were previously part of the collection of things in the family cottage in Cape Breton. My brother filled me in on what was going on: they had finally made the plans and scheduled the tearing down of the house.
I've known it was coming for years - in the fall of 2013, my father had the power shut off for good, and running water had been restricted to the kitchen sink and the toilet that year. Last summer, we were without electricity and running water, and an old house that hasn't been inhabited in twenty years with absolutely no work put into preserving it isn't really long for this world. So in a little over a week, the house will be pulled out of there.
I'm feeling a deep sense of loss - it is just a house, and I know it's unsafe, and it is for the best. But it was the unifying thread of summers, ages 6 through 23 (even though I was unable to go this summer). A place of family and friends. There's a bit of emptiness when I think about a place I have always thought of as home. I found myself wandering onto Google Street View to see the house - because yes, apparently Google Street View made it to backwater Nova Scotia - and grieve for the end of an era. Will I still run into the ghosts of younger selves there? Most likely. But it will never quite be the same, and in this season of my changing, uncertain, post-graduate life, I'm taking it harder than I might have otherwise.
With all of this in mind, I am going to talk about Sixteen92 Boardwalk this week. It was a limited edition scent, originally in an indie box (Christmas in July? Something like that. Not really important) and then was released in a limited run by Sixteen92 in August. I ended up picking it up while going to get my 5.5ml of Theda because of one review. Just one. I read many, many, many of them despite the fact that I told myself I had no intention of trying to hunt it down. But the Instagram reviewer, indiescentoftheday reviewed it the same day the second wave of the limited run was put up and I was drawn in. I was sold. I think it was the specificity of Atlantic coast in her review. Yeah, sure, the Pacific is nice, but Atlantic pride, my friends. The west coast thinks they're so great. I am here to tell you we east coasters are just as fantastic.
Coconut pulp, coconut milk, Coppertone, sand, sea breeze, driftwood, melted vanilla ice cream cone, sticky cotton candy
The original reason I wasn't interested in this was because of the cotton candy note, and because I already have Bobbi Brown Beach and this sounded like Beach plus candy. Which is no wrong. But Beach has a different kind of ocean in it - a sunny, calm, blue one. The ocean in Boardwalk is fierce and windtossed, with loads of waves. It's the kind of ocean that I am used to, and one that I prefer.
In the bottle, this is sweet, sugary candy, a ton of coconut, and a hint of sea air. Meh. Not exciting at all. On my skin, however, it's...interesting. There are stages I like a lot more than others. I'm mostly fascinated by it. It starts off as strong cotton candy and sunscreen. There's a salty driftwood note keeping it from getting too cloying, but it's pretty sweet. The sillage is very strong at this point.
As it dries down, the cotton candy recedes, and the scent becomes more of a slightly sweet, sunscreen and ocean combo. I get some of the vanilla, and the coconut - together putting me in mind of coconut cream pie. But the scent switches the focus to the wild, windtossed ocean. And here's where I start to get a little sad: it smells like sunscreen, sunshine, wind, and wild water, and the sticky remnants of snack gobbled down by hungry children. Here is where the scent shifts from just a scent to a memory of summer days at the family house. It continues to morph into a salty sea air scent during wear. The sillage as it begins to morph hugs closer to the skin. It lasts about seven hours on my skin.
I am fond of this one overall, even if it makes me sad. Sometimes the nicest things do.