Soap and Satisfaction

Gathering the things to make soap, as the cat keeps watch, and the geraniums bloom.

Prepping the water and lye, and waiting for it cool down to 95°-100°F, offering generous time and space to prepare the fats 'n' oils to the match those temps.

Blending the lye water into the fat 'n' oils, and - in this batch - adding castor oil, kaolin clay, and essential oils until they trace.

Pouring the soap batter into the molds, and covering them with boxes covered with layers of towels and blankets to temper the cool down. In the next day or two these will be removed from their molds. The block will be peeled out of its silicon mold and sliced, and the goddesses when they pop out of these old plastic molds easily, probably a day or two after the block is sliced. Then they all go onto shelves in a closet where they'll cure several weeks, and then into boxes where they'll continue curing for months, which is my preference. A long-cured soap will last a long time when in use. Know what I mean? Anyhoo...

There's something remarkably satisfying about making soap. To me, the alchemy of it is a delightful blend of art 'n' science... dare I say magic. This is my second batch this winter, this week, actually, as we finally have enough snow to leverage as the lye coolant. It's a tiny conscious choice to make a wee impact on my carbon footprint. Silly, perhaps, when compared to divesting, boycotting, and other such action, yet - from my view - every little choice 'n' action matters and counts.  

I have at least one more quart of rendered lard, made from fat from Howling Flats Farm, and with it I'll like make another batch of soap in the next day 'r two while we have the snow. 

We have a drawer worth of soap in the bathroom, some of those bars have cured for years. We have a wine box filled with bars from last winter, and now these batches. We have soap on hand for the long haul, and plenty to share in trades and as gifts.

And I am grateful.

Peace. 🕊