We Have Soap

It's always a thrill when I open the box and see a new batch of soap, perfectly set up. One never knows...there could be a misalignment of the planets, or some bad karma that has conspired to offset the chemical balance required. The soap must be wrapped up and insulated for the first 24 hours to prevent quick cooling. For me, there is a certain suspense involved, following by a sigh of relief. When you have poured a $60 bottle of Patchouli into the soup, hoping it will turn into soap, you want it to work. Speaking of patchouli...when I went into town to get the NY Times (can you imagine, it is easier to get here than when we lived on the river, 70 miles west of NYC) I stopped at Joanie's Diner to get Matt his favorite breakfast sandwich. Joanie stood still and her eyes widened...is that patchouli that I smell????? I had put the last few drops from the bottle on the back of my neck. Joanie is crazy about it. I happen to adore the scent but it is not for everyone. It seems people either love it or hate it. Kathleen, my knitter friend from Peru, loves it, too. I will have to bring Joanie some soap and send some to Kathleen the next time I send her some yarn. (She is knitting some hats for me and I am so excited about that. They will have earflaps and braided tie strings - how cool is that?) Patchouli people need to stick together. I give away as much soap as I sell. Kind of like casting my soap upon the waters. Anyway, after getting home and set up for another round of soapmaking I decided I couldn't wait any longer - I removed the wool blankets from the double layered cardboard boxes to peek inside. Bingo! We have soap! My operation is as basic as can be. I pour the molten soap batter into paper milk cartons that I tear away from the block once it is hardened. I confess I have lusted after fancy molds and hydraulic cutters...but there is something cool about remaining so simple. It works fine for the Luddite in me as Gretchen would say.