Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Discounted Soap! Get yours now!


Okay, folks, this is the deal:

When making soap, it is important to keep track of the ingredients involved very carefully. Making soap is not like cooking--a mistake can mean the soap will be drastically altered. On the bad end, too much lye means the soap will be caustic to the skin, causing extreme irritation.

That's not what happened here.

I was making my Lavender Calendula Baby Soap--standard recipe (100% olive oil) that I've done many, many times. Well, I missed a tick mark when I was measuring out the pounds of oil and........I added an extra pound to the batch. The result: a very soft soap, that holds its bar shape, smells fabulous, and is GUARANTEED not to last very long. Or lather much.

However! You, as the reader of this blog, have the opportunity of a lifetime! Okay, the opportunity of a month when the soap maker was scatterbrained--these soaps are ultra-gentle, ultra-soothing, and ultra-discounted. Each bar of this particular soap is just $2.00. I've got 36 bars.

Let me know how many bars you would like to reserve. I'm not stamping them with my groovy stamp, either. We've just got to get these soaps out to the people.

Oh, and one more thing: the soaps were in the mold, near the window. Bad Dog jumped up on them to get to the window. BAD DOG! So, some of the soaps have paw/claw prints in them. No worries--the soap was covered with plastic at the time. *sigh* Welcome to my world.


Contact me through my website to order these bars.

Monday, May 29, 2006

Make that "Spring Vacation."


We made it through the first real heat wave of the year unscathed. And now I sit, sipping hot tea and wearing a sweater, in my kitchen. It is 61 degrees outside currently, and much cooler than that in the shade, of course. And it feels cooler than that in our house, the windows of which were open all night, because we've made that a habit, what with the heat.

But not tonight, I think.

No, today it is supposed to be a perfect 74 degrees. I plan on taking the cutie to the park to wear her out. We might go by a street festival I know of, as well. Get a funnel cake. (I don't like these, but I'm betting my cutie will.)

My snapdragons are up and blooming. The photo is from google--not mine. Mine are a firey orange-red with orange centers, and a darker red. I have a few in my window box as well, that are pink with yellow centers. I love snapdragons. We plan on doing a lot of gardening this summer. I think the day after tomorrow will be a good day for it, as it is supposed to rain tomorrow, and digging in this horrible clay dirt after a few dry, hot days is a nightmare. We're planting trees and creating flower beds, hauling bark chips and flagstone, and good dirt in bags. Coming from Iowa, there is still a bit of hilarity in my mind when I purchase a huge bag of something called "Supersoil." In Iowa, that's called simply, "dirt."

Friday, May 26, 2006

Summer vacation is here.



Today is the first day of this year's summer vacation. It usually takes me until Monday to register that I'm on vacation. However, my margarita and beer yesterday helped me to feel relaxed and vacation-y. I'm paying for it this morning (such a teetotaler). Took some ibuprofen and had some coffee with my eggs-and-toast breakfast. That is another indicator that I'm on vacation, too.

I must confess my sadness at this school year ending, mixed with overwhelming relief. The relief comes from this infernal year simply ending. I conferred with several colleagues who have been teaching a long time (one of them for 40 years), and they confirmed that this year was one of the most difficult. Our principal got sacked 2/3 of the way through, so our AP took over, and we got a new AP. But then we got a new principal for next year, who is bringing in her own AP (apparently they can do that), so our old AP is out, too. I don't know how I feel about our new principal--she's been working in a school where many of the children are hand-picked, and doesn't understand why two people run our discipline office. Ha. I think she's going to have what is known as a "rude awakening."

The sadness comes from losing another friend to the lure of adventure. Friend S. is attempting to secure a teaching job elsewhere. He does not want to stay in this school district, and since he is single, is searching for jobs in places he would like to live--Scotland, Montana...and somewhere else I can't remember. He's moved out of his apartment, because his roommate is getting married and has moved out. This spurred him to purge his belongings and move the stuff he wanted to keep down to his mom's place.

Yesterday, the last day of school, I kept running off to the lavatory or some other private place, to cry. I can't imagine not teaching with S. next year. We've been teaching together for the past four years, and during the first year became very close friends, and have been since. We team-teach every day, me being the special ed teacher. I feel like I'll never see him again, which is possible.

Just last week, some friends of mine moved out of state. I feel like people are running away from me, and I'm filled with sadness. It's a difficult time in my heart.

This pain is lessened, however, by my daughter, who climbed into bed with us in the middle of the night, and since she wasn't kicking either of us in the kidneys, we left here there. I woke up looking at my girl, blinking slowly, turning her head, looking at me, smiling, whispering, "Hi, Mama," in the sunshine. Was it coming from the window or from her face?

I suppose I'll make it.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

My husband, the smart-arse.


I make soap. That's one of the things I do. Not only do I make it, but I sell it for a profit. Many people have purchased my soaps and find them lovely. Many people have received my soaps as gifts and wondered, "Is she trying to tell me I smell?"

But I digress.

Today, after dinner, my husband decided it was time for him to bathe. Thank goodness. It is Tuesday, after all.

So he's in the tub, and starts hollering for me. I go in there and have the following conversation:

Me: What!?

Smart-Arse Man: What's this soap? (hands it to me)

Me: *smells soap* It's Macho Man Face and Body Soap.

S.A.M.: Pfft. Isn't there any decent soap in this house?




*rolls eyes*

He knows, of course, that I have about 400 bars in the garage. Ass.