I grow calendula along the south wall specifically for soap, and I’ve made peace with the fact that almost nothing else in my garden will survive the journey.
My color shelf holds thirty-one jars, and every single one of them has lied to me at least once. Pigments were the part of soap making that humbled me
Every few months someone in a crafting group asks whether they can make soap with baking soda instead of lye, and I always answer gently, because I asked
The first jar of soft soap I ever made looked like cloudy apple juice and smelled faintly of a chemistry lab. I nearly poured it away. Three days later
My niece asked for “soap you can draw with” one Christmas, and I said yes before I had any idea what I was agreeing to. Three failed batches
The first time I cut into a swirled loaf and found a pattern I hadn’t planned and couldn’t repeat, I understood why people get obsessed with this.
My supply cupboard took fifteen years and a fair amount of wasted money to assemble, and if I could send the list back in time to my first year I’
My grandmother grew carrots in sandy soil that gave them a sweetness supermarket carrots never have, and the first time I pureed a handful into a batch
Every December someone asks me to make “the chocolate soap,” and every December I have the same conversation about what chocolate soap actually is.
Lye water is the one part of soap making that nobody romanticizes, and I think that’s a mistake. It’s the step where a bucket of oil stops