One Has To Be Careful Perfume Oil

ONE HAS TO BE CAREFUL

Well, he was humming this hum to himself, and walking along gaily, wondering what everybody else was doing, and what it felt like, being somebody else, when suddenly he came to a sandy bank, and in the bank was a large hole.

“Aha!” said Pooh. (Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.) “If I know anything about anything, that hole means Rabbit,” he said, “and Rabbit means Company,” he said, “and Company means Food and Listening-to-Me-Humming and such like. Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um.”

So he bent down, put his head into the hole, and called out:

“Is anybody at home?”

There was a sudden scuffling noise from inside the hole, and then silence.

“What I said was, ‘Is anybody at home?'” called out Pooh very loudly.

“No!” said a voice; and then added, “You needn’t shout so loud. I heard you quite well the first time.”

“Bother!” said Pooh. “Isn’t there anybody here at all?”

“Nobody.”

Winnie-the-Pooh took his head out of the hole, and thought for a little, and he thought to himself, “There must be somebody there, because somebody must have said ‘Nobody.'” So he put his head back in the hole, and said:

“Hallo, Rabbit, isn’t that you?”

“No,” said Rabbit, in a different sort of voice this time.

“But isn’t that Rabbit’s voice?”

“I don’t think so,” said Rabbit. “It isn’t meant to be.”

“Oh!” said Pooh.

He took his head out of the hole, and had another think, and then he put it back, and said:

“Well, could you very kindly tell me where Rabbit is?”

“He has gone to see his friend Pooh Bear, who is a great friend of his.”

“But this is Me!” said Bear, very much surprised.

“What sort of Me?”

“Pooh Bear.”

“Are you sure?” said Rabbit, still more surprised.

“Quite, quite sure,” said Pooh.

“Oh, well, then, come in.”

So Pooh pushed and pushed and pushed his way through the hole, and at last he got in.

“You were quite right,” said Rabbit, looking at him all over. “It is you. Glad to see you.”

“Who did you think it was?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure. You know how it is in the Forest. One can’t have anybody coming into one’s house. One has to be careful. What about a mouthful of something?”

Pooh always liked a little something at eleven o’clock in the morning, and he was very glad to see Rabbit getting out the plates and mugs; and when Rabbit said, “Honey or condensed milk with your bread?” he was so excited that he said, “Both,” and then, so as not to seem greedy, he added, “But don’t bother about the bread, please.” And for a long time after that he said nothing … until at last, humming to himself in a rather sticky voice, he got up, shook Rabbit lovingly by the paw, and said that he must be going on.

“Must you?” said Rabbit politely.

“Well,” said Pooh, “I could stay a little longer if it—if you——” and he tried very hard to look in the direction of the larder.

“As a matter of fact,” said Rabbit, “I was going out myself directly.”

“Oh, well, then, I’ll be going on. Good-bye.”

“Well, good-bye, if you’re sure you won’t have any more.”

“Is there any more?” asked Pooh quickly.

Rabbit took the covers off the dishes, and said, “No, there wasn’t.”

“I thought not,” said Pooh, nodding to himself. “Well, good-bye. I must be going on.”

The Hundred Acre Wood’s resident Virgo (affectionate). The scent of neat rows and polite refusals: toasted oats and clover honey, crushed lemon verbena, wild carrot leaf, and white tea poured with exacting care. A dab of condensed milk on a clean spoon, a faint rustle of vetiver, and a courteous cough to suggest that your visit has gone on quite long enough.

5ml Perfume Oil
Price
Regular price $32.00
Regular price Sale price $32.00
/
The Hundred-Acre Wood

Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was going to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.

Part nursery dream, part ancient magic. Beneath the dappled sunlight of the Hundred Acre Wood hums something older: the hush of time, the sweetness of honey and kindness, the wisdom of wonder and simplicity, the moss-soft echo of laughter trailing down a timeworn path.

Here live the small gods of childhood: a bear of very little brain, a timid pig, a gloomy donkey, a fussy rabbit, a wise owl, a tiger all bounce and blaze, a patient mother and her precocious child, and the bees, forever busy. Their world is stitched from memory and meadow air, a place of lost afternoons, joyous contentment, and golden jars of honey that never seem to empty.

Each scent in this collection captures a moment of joy, of comfort, of courage, and of melancholy, suspended like amber light in a bottle.

Somewhere in the Wood someone is humming.

Yule 2025

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn. Hal Borland’s reassurance feels especially poignant now, in a year that has asked so much of us. It has been a challenging season in countless ways: globally, locally, intimately. The darkness has felt long, the chill of countless terrors freezing the breath in our lungs and the beat of our hearts. And yet, threaded through every difficult moment is a truth that refuses to dim: we are not meant to walk through any of this alone.

Community is not a luxury in times like these; it is a lifeline. It is the network of hands that lift us up when we falter, it is the shelter against the storm. In dark times, community becomes the architecture of hope, built from small acts of care: a meal cooked, a message sent, a burden shared.

Love, too, becomes a form of courage during periods of extreme upheaval. It is the choice to remain open-hearted despite the horrors. Compassion is love’s companion; supporting those who are vulnerable, asking for help when we need it, offering comfort without being asked… this is what will keep the cold from taking root inside us.

No winter lasts forever. And when the thaw comes – when sunlight returns to the edges of our days – it will be because we kept one another warm. With the strength we find in each other, with the communities we build and nurture, we will see spring again together soon.

Hold onto each other. We’re all we have.

You may also like
More from Yule 2025
Recently viewed