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I did it again. It’s soap-making day for me. I love it. Just thinking about it and I can’t sleep. My mind kind of beeps at me for a few days; it’s time to sort through the molds; it’s time to pull out the oils; what scent is appealing enough this time? My stash of handmade soaps has dwindled down to the last few lopsided, misshapen bars. All the pretty ones have been used or given away and I cannot decide which sad looking bar I’ll use next.
I respond to the beeping in little increments, and then the studio table is full of my supplies and I’m ready to mix up a batch of my creamy blonde soap. The lead-up process is slow and thoughtful, and then abruptly I turn into this frenzied whirlwind, flapping about the room, measuring, mixing, pouring and peeking. It’s so dang exciting. So intense. And then it’s all over. Done. The morning has ended, the soap is resting, and the house is scented with a refreshing, citrus fragrance. Ahhhh. ’til next time.

  • Beautiful, creamy soaps

    Beautiful, creamy soaps

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