Teaching soapmaking

Today I taught four people how to make soap. As I shall be moving house soon (Saturday 5th September, to be precise), I am trying to get rid of some things of which I have too much. One of these things is my oil collection. Much as it would be lovely to put them into storage and get them out again next time I want to make soap, I must accept that these things go off and leak, and that storing them is actually not a very clever plan.

I decided to put an advert on my local swap shop, offering to teach people how to make soap. This was in exchange for chocolate, wine, or loan of a tent next time I go camping (next weekend). I got one bar of chocolate, one tent, and one cake. We made two batches of soap, both of which misbehaved in an annoying way. Next time I teach soapmaking I shall have to make sure that I use a tried and tested recipe!

The first batch was a daffodil one. It was supposed to be moisturising. The soap decided to go all oily in the pan, and had to be attacked with a blender until it decided to play nicely. Alas, it did not trace as it was supposed to, and so I couldn't show this stage to everyone. It behaved in the end, though, and did at least demonstrate what soap looks like when it is ready to be poured into the mould.

Alas, during the proceedings one of the local residents decided that it would be a lovely idea to piss into my back yard. He declared that he would laugh if we noticed him. There is perhaps a small possibility that he was somewhat intoxicated. I am very proud of myself: I resisted the urge to hit him with a stick. My guests were also well-behaved, and refrained from pouring caustic soda on the offending item. Tempting, but ultimately likely to get us arrested.

The second soap was purple. Well, it wasn't purple at all, but it will probably be purple by the time it has finished curing. We put alkanet oil in, which is red.* This then turns purple, or lilac, or whatever it wants to be called. It was a bit over-full in its mould, and a bit came out of the top, but it will be interesting to see what it looks like with a forced flat top - normally I stroke it a bit and hope for the best.

The five of us seemed to get on quite well together - I really hope that we can get together at some point in the future and do some more crafty things together. There were some interesting talents within the group, including spinning. I have promised the remainder of my oils to one of them shortly before I move out (I might want to make more soap before I go, but she can have what's left), and we will meet up again at some point in her house to make another vanilla soap. In the meantime, I am thinking of making a soap which uses the oil infused with vanilla that I have had hanging around for an unfeasibly long time. It would be good to use that.

I had a fun time this evening. Tomorrow is sailing and avoiding being thought of as the sort of person who wants to get into a relationship (hopefully not too tricky, but not pinning too many hopes on that), followed by cutting soap, followed by packing, followed by organ practice (which has been sadly lacking recently, but I figure that I should cut myself some slack). Sunday will be a day of church, then lunch, then looking at a potential new house (could do with getting that sorted before I move out of this house), then packing the car, going to the parents' house and dropping off 1/4 of my remaining possessions (only four more trips in which I can do this), then cleaning out their fridge which will be full of rotting vegetables. Yay. Monday will be organ building work experience, day three. This promises to be fun. I suppose that the last two would only count as fun if you like that sort of thing, but it turns out that so far I do. A career I enjoy may be beckoning me...


*To be a little bit more precise, the alkanet oil is actually olive oil infused with alkanet powder. It starts off looking a little like blood, and then goes purplish when it gets put in something with the same pH as soap, whatever that happens to be. I started to infuse this one in the previous house - it has probably been infusing for something approaching a year now.

Since getting home from work

He came back to collect some more stuff. He went away again. I cried. I stopped crying. I brought some oils downstairs. I taught two people how to make soap. I did the washing up. They went home. I wrote a blog post. The end.

Internet in a box

Finally, over two months after moving to our new house, we have the Internet back! Instead of it residing on a silly little stick (which I had to plug into the laptop via an extra-long USB cable, before balancing the stick on the top of the bottom sash window in the bedroom, and wrapping the cable round the fastener for support, meaning that the only place from which I have been able to access the Internet is sitting in HWSNBN's spot on the bed), it now resides in a slightly less silly box, which spreads its lovely Internet rays around the house, to be intercepted by some network thingy box or other, which sends the Internet rays about the house in such a way that the laptop recognises them as friendly and Internetty, and stuff. At least, that's how I understand the process. What this means is that the Internet is faster, I am allowed to look at pictures (the stick is pay-per-byte; pictures are too big for it), and I can access it anywhere in the house! Last night, I sat downstairs on the settee and wrote an e-mail.

Next thing you know, I'll be having a housewarming party.

This weekend was a bank holiday, and so I did what any self-respecting woman would do: I made soap. I kind of suggested that I might be available to lead a soapmaking workshop on a specific date a few weeks ago, but when the time came round I was overwhelmed with moving, and hadn't yet found my palm oil (which is the cheapest one - I eventually found it on top of a cupboard in the front room, a couple of weeks later), and so I cancelled the workshop. This Monday, I taught one of the people who would have come to the workshop how to make soap. I think that she enjoyed herself.

We made two soaps. The first was supposed to be sandalwood, but I can't afford that and had to use amyris instead. It smells a bit like sandalwood, I hope. The only requirement for the second soap was that it should be purple. It turned out pale green. I think that perhaps I went wrong somewhere along the line. My next soap will be purple, though: I shall use paler oils and more pigment. I shall also avoid listening to pigment suggestions from somebody who has never made soap before.

Actually, my soaps had far fewer massive bubbles in than usual - I am obviously doing something right. Fewer bubbles means that I can give more of them away as gifts, and don't have to fob them off on unwary passers-by, who don't necessarily want to be taking home small piles of soap with them. It also looks as though I might know what I am doing, and that I might possibly care about how my soap looks.

And now my brain is so overwhelmed with tiredness that it is refusing to come up with ends to sentences; perhaps I ought to stop now, before the quality of this post deteriorates further.

Today - now with title!

Today has been a busy day. I woke up at 11.15, but was able to spend another 55 minutes just lying there. That was nice. I wish that I had the opportunity to do that more often; it would probably make it quite boring after a few goes, and I would just get up and get stuff done.

Having got up and eaten breakfast, we went into City for Potato Day. This is an annual event during which one can purchase organic seed potatoes for 15p each. I bought 36 potatoes (6 each of 6 varieties) and am pleased with my haul. Last year they did not have Maris Peer (2nd early) in stock, but this year they did: cause for much rejoicing, and all that. They also still had Red Duke of York (1st early) and Arran Victory (maincrop), which was great - I love the red and purple ones the most: it's like digging up jewels, then you get to eat them! Also, I like to make a potato salad out of Red Duke of York for my birthday party in June. Last year it took a whole row of them to make one potato salad, but it is always worth it. I also bought Bamboo, a salad potato, Remarka (maincrop - good at blight resistance, apparently) and Maris Bard (1st early). These are an experiment, and I hope they pay off. At the very least, I hope not to have the blight problems we had last year and the year before. Please, God, make it rain less this year.

After that had been achieved, we went to HWSNBN's mother's house and painted the garage floor. We used a little over half the tin for the first coat - I really hope we have enough for the second coat tomorrow. The wind kept blowing leaves onto the wet paint (where did they come from? Autumn was ages ago! Having said that, I was looking at some fat sheep a few days ago and wondered how they had got so fat, it being autumn and them, presumably, being only recently impregnated. I now realise that I was wrong; autumn was ages ago, and they will be giving birth very shortly. Saw my first 2009 lambs this morning), which was frustrating: it was very satisfying to shut the garage door. I am now less than enthusiastic about the second coat, which is a shame. I was hoping to have enough enthusiasm to do both coats without any problems, but that does not look likely. HWSNBN's mum will be making us dinner after we finish the second coat, though, which is a good incentive.

Speaking of whom, I looked under her bathroom sink today and discovered a stockpile of my soaps. I though that she had run out, but it doesn't look as though she is using them at all. Ah well - it means that I don't have to worry about making enough for her next time. More for Serena, who doesn't seem to use any other sort of soap at the moment. It is a bit frustrating, though - I think I gave her some of my best soaps, which I have now run out of. I want to give them to someone else now (i.e. Linda - no way I'm going to be able to make her a lavender soap in the near future, but I know a person who has one going spare now), but never mind. At least I know now. It is very frustrating always to receive the wrong presents from people, which they mistakenly believe that one likes, but one, in fact, hates. I shall be able to avoid doing that, and potentially inducing guilt, now. She would be better off with some of my soaps than with that liquid soap she uses, though - mine are full of all sorts of goodies.

Sorry - did I just go off on one? Please be assured that there are no hard feelings there, although there is an awful lot of poorly written stuff.

As it appears that I am currently operating on an "it is in my head; let's get it out here" basis, may I take a moment to say how much I love my new shoes? They are black and shiny, and have long ankle straps which go round twice. They look quite elegant, which is unusual for shoes belonging to me. They are also really comfortable for climbing shoes.* Which is something, I suppose. I hope that I will have worn them in sufficiently to be worn on an actual outing some time soon...

Other than that, it appears that the truffles I made before Christmas really need eating now (damn), so I am making a gentle start with that. Two is a good start; I can have a few more tomorrow.

Now I had better practise tomorrow's hymn. I could do with sounding as though I have seen an organ before, as we have a visiting preacher. Also, I mustn't forget to collect Jeanne on my way there - must text her now to remind her she's supposed to be waiting for me...



*Climbing shoes are not comfortable. They have to be really close-fitting to be useful, and this often has its disadvantages. I would love it if all climbing shoes were as comfortable as these shoes; alas, they are not.

Woah

That last post was a while ago, wasn't it? Which is also what I said last time. Let's hope I don't make a habit of this.

On Wednesday I had my second joinery lesson, which went well. Apparently I can put down the chisel in an appropriate manner, which is considered to be a good sign. The magic I work when I pick up the chisel is, of course, overwhelmingly good. Ho hum. Nonetheless, it looks as though I may have the potential to wield it successfully and thus become an organ builder extraordinaire.

Yesterday I made three soaps. Using the same recipe helps - making in bulk is great! I only have one more soap that I absolutely must make before Christmas. Alas, I am nearly out of oils - olive, corn and hemp are getting somewhat desperate. Cocoa and shea butter are not looking good. Hazelnut oil is practically finished. Coconut, castor and palm oil are fine. Avocado is currently great, but will not be replenished when it runs out - I got this lot for free. My olive oil supplier* has stopped doing the olive oil that I need - the really cheap one which is cheap in so many ways. They now only do expensive ones, which are actually less good for soap making - a double disadvantage. Anyway, it is satisfying to be less far behind.

Sunday's carol preparations continue to go slowly. Today I practised playing with my eyes shut; I am hoping that this has reinforced the last verses enough that I will be able to play them with people singing (but with my eyes open, looking at the music - I was just trying to get the notes reinforced in my head). Apparently that can be useful in a carol service. Tomorrow I have the organ booked for three hours, but I am not convinced it will be enough. Perhaps I should ask them to postpone it for a week.

The preparations, apart from these verses, are actually going really well. Alas, adding in the pedals seems to be a bit too taxing for me. I can do it when there is nobody singing; even when there is someone singing we reach the last note at the same time (I have years of experience at reaching the last note at the same time); it's just many of the notes in between which are a problem. One of the sopranos in the choir kindly sang along with me this afternoon, to show up just how bad I am** (and to give me practice at keeping going), which was helpful. I shall have a few hours to sort this on Sunday. Mother reckons that I should just play the standard last verses, but I have plans to go out in a blaze of, erm, glory. I expect that my next update will be after the event (judging by precedent, it may be a while afterwards; please do not hold your breath).

Today I got home a little before HWSNBN. After a satisfyingly productive morning I had the afternoon off today (hooray - freedom!), and spent it singing carols at lunchtime and practising the organ afterwards. When I returned home afterwards, I was very tired. This was not at all due to staying up more than an hour after my bedtime e-mailing Elizabeth, of course. It was because I practised so effectively this afternoon. Tiring work. I went to sleep for three hours, which was nice. It is actually one of my favourite things, except for the effort involved with waking up. Now we are watching the television, and I am blogging (I know - radical!). And drinking wine. Very nice. Must get some more before Christmas, though.


*A supermarket, but a very specific branch of a specific supermarket.

**My words, not hers. Well not out loud, anyway.

Sunday bibble, organ, and soap

Last Sunday, after having finished my organ practice, I had a very hard time motivating myself to pack up my bags and leave, which seemed to be especially heavy. Going to church this morning, I was surprised to note that my music bags were not that heavy after all, and came to the conclusion that there was something weird going on.

To be a little informative, I keep about 20 music books in my main music bag, plus two hefty hymn books and my organ shoes* in the second bag. I have never weighed them, mostly because I do not have any suitable scales, as opposed to because I am not that anal. I am that anal.

So, today after church I did some organ practice. "O Come all ye Faithful" is coming along nicely, I think. The piece I really want to play next week for Remembrance Sunday is not. Bugger.

Anne, my baby sister, was disgruntled when I "suggested" that she should be practicing the piano very slowly indeed, several bars at a time, keeping to a set rhythm, but I insisted that it would do her good. In a rare bout of insight, I realised that this would also do me good, and spent a while working on about five bars over and over and over and over again. After this, it was considerably less bad. I must do that again. In fact, I must do it again tomorrow. I must leave work on time and not spend two hours e-mailing important people this time.

After a couple of hours of organ practice,** I decided to leave. When I picked up my music bags, they had once again magically become very heavy indeed. On the plus side, the nuns hadn't shut the gate this time, so I was able to get off the grounds without wrestling with unwieldy bits of wrought iron. It does beg the question of why organ practice seems to take so much out of me. It must be the mental effort combined with the overdue lunch.

I know - my life sucks so much. I have to spend a couple of hours doing something I love, then carry two heavy bags 100m to the car. I can almost hear your heart bleeding for me.

I then went shopping, and bought my first Christmas present (excluding soaps, of course). HWSNBN has indicated that it will not be very well-received; it is perhaps a bit too practical for its intended recipient. However, it is just the sort of thing that she needs, and it is not as though I shall not be making her a special soap scented with her favourite perfume. Which makes everything better.

I also bought some toothpaste, some caustic soda and some coconut oil; the latter two are for soap making. Oh, and a chewy, noisy rattle-type object and three vests for my friend's new baby, who I may get to meet this week. So far I have only seen one photo of her; she looks very cute indeed. Her dad assured me before she was born that she would be a quiet baby who slept a lot. I will be very interested to find out how that is going.

When I returned home, I set to decanting the coconut oil from bottles to take-away containers. I don't know whether or not you have encountered coconut oil before, but it is solid at room temperature. Mine comes in narrow-necked bottles - I get the feeling that their packaging was dreamed up by someone more accustomed to warmer climes, in which the coconut oil would be pourable immediately.

As I am an impatient sort of person, and do not fancy heating up bottles of coconut oil every time I want to make soap, it was necessary for the contents to me melted and stored elsewhere. In a bold and imaginative move, I put the bottles on a radiator for a while to give the oil a chance to melt without costing me any additional money. Of course, had I been organised, I could have put them on a window sill in summer, and also paid less for them (the price of coconut oil has gone up). However, I did not, so there is no point beating myself up about it on such a wildly public forum (yes, your views are welcome). When they were melted (which took no more than five hours in any case), their contents went into take-away containers to set again - I can remove measured quantities of oil with a spoon now. Tomorrow, they get lids, then they go to join all of my other oils. Now, if only I can convince HWSNBN to buy me some more olive oil, my collection will be as complete as I can afford at the moment. Just in time for Christmas soap. Which, incidentally, is coming along nicely.

It is Grandad's birthday on Tuesday, and I shall be sending him some soaps for that. Had I thought far enough in advance, I could perhaps have got some siblings to take them back, but I did not, and nor did I have all of the soaps I now have. I tell you, it's a little soapy empire here. I have run out of suitable storage space. Quick! Send shoe boxes!

Grandad's soaps are all wrapped, except for the one I made yesterday, which is on the radiator, in a desperate attempt to get it a little more dry before I send it to him tomorrow morning. As the radiator went off nearly an hour ago, perhaps now is an opportune moment to rescue it. Then I shall read that book I was supposed to read instead of going on the Internet. That would be useful.


*Typically, organists will have organ shoes. These should have smooth, not too grippy soles (so the feet slide easily over the pedals), a bit of a heel (to make it easier to avoid hitting notes in between the two desired notes) and the sole should not be much bigger than the foot (to reduce the probability of hitting more notes than desired). Mine are OK except that the sole is a bit wide. I am looking for another pair, but they are surprisingly difficult to find. You will be reassured to know, I am sure, that my new man shoes do not seem to make my organ playing significantly worse; they will be useful when I become an organ builder.

**That is the figure I would like you to believe - I started at about 12 and finished at 14.20, so obviously I did do two hours, at least.

Brrr

Right now I should be going to bed, but the settee is warm and bed is not. Instead I shall sit for a while and listen to the washing machine finish doing its thing, so that I can use the nice clean washing to make the house lovely and damp.

HWSNBN has gone to bed. I hope that he is on my side; it seems a shame for him to use all of that heat he generates on himself. I shall try to improve the heat situation by having a shower (which will also provide me with the opportunity to test my second-to-latest soap).

Goodness me, this is boring. I have a theory that it is less what one writes about and more how it is written which makes something readable, but I'm not really giving myself much to work with here. It has just occurred to me that I might be losing readers as a result of my lack of content. OK. Deep breaths. I shall not be a slave to what my readers want; I shall be true to myself. I shall continue to write crap for the satisfaction of having, erm, done that sort of thing. Yes. That shall be my strategy. Goodbye non-faithful readers; anyone who has made it this far is obviously hardcore. And not showing up on a stats counter. Hardcore and very discrete. Nice.

The washing machine is finished; off to the shower for me. Night night.

Many uninteresting things

Yesterday was a very tired day. I think that the high drama of the weekend, combined with failing to sleep for an extra hour despite the clock change, had taken its toll on me, insofar as it was difficult for me to get the motivation to pick up some bags and leave church after finishing some organ practice. Which was rather rubbish practice. However, I have established that I may be able to play the fancy version of "O Come all ye Faithful" in time for Christmas. This is very exciting - it's one of the pieces I have always wanted to play. Obviously it would be better on a more powerful organ (the organ I might actually have to play it on makes mine look like a monster: Frankenstein's monster), but the notes are the same whatever one plays it on. Perhaps next year I shall have access to larger and more impressive organs...

On returning from church (via the supermarket, in which I was to buy margarine and tea bags, of which I managed to remember margarine), I huddled under a duvet in the front room and shivered until the heating came on. I then read for a few minutes, then went to sleep accidentally while HWSNBN cut up mushrooms and onions for the mushroom risotto. This meant that I didn't have to wash mushrooms or peel an onion, both of which are annoying jobs. It also meant that I got five minutes of sleep.

After dinner, I made soap. Alas, today it looks a little weird. I shall leave it for a few days to see how it behaves, but I suspect that I shall be making a replacement batch on Thursday. Fortunately, I only used half of the fragrance, so it won't be too much of a problem. I think that maybe I should have stirred it more.

So, as you can see, my day was fascinating and stimulating. I just know that you are wishing I posted this sooner so that you wouldn't have to wait so long for your almost-daily dose of excitement. What does one do when one's life is so exciting? How does one de-stress? Skydiving? Now there's a thought.*

Time for a shower. Then to bed, then to work. Repeat ad infinitum.


*Not a very good one, though.

Dubious roasted butternut squash soup with ginger and smoked paprika

I promised to make soup for some people this week, and today I got round to it. If only I had read the recipe before requesting the ingredients...

I had about 2kg of butternut squash, which is OK for about 10 people. Unfortunately, I needed to do soup for about 20. Had I read the recipe I could have requested more - as it is, I used extra fried onions and a bit too much liquid. It may be less filling than usual.

The squash itself tasted really weird when it came out of the oven - I did not think I could produce anything worth eating out of it. However, with careful seasoning (smoked sweet paprika can be miraculous), it seems to taste OK.

Oh dear. This blog is turning into a chronicle of the wonderful, wholesome crafts I have produced, along with too few instructions to be helpful. All I need is a more homely design and some photographs and I am set. What makes me more uncomfortable is that this has become a theme so quickly, and that I have scarcely even started making Christmas presents - it may well get worse.

I think that this is evidence of how deep a rut I have got myself into. Additionally, my lung capacity has ceased to improve; it has actually started to deprove a bit. I am wary of racing up any climbing walls until that sorts itself out* - I have no desire to leave in an ambulance.

Also, I do not have a life, so there is nothing else to talk about. Tomorrow you may hear about the conditioner I made.** Today I am going to tell you about my new soap. Not the really interesting one, which did set after all, but is the most playdough-like soap I have ever met and will undoubtedly warp like a yoga teacher*** on its way to drydom. No - today I made paprika soap.

The idea behind it is that it is both impressively coloured and exfoliates gently. No doubt it will also change the water into interesting colours ("Help! She's been murdered!") and leave a nasty sediment on the bottom of the bath. Mother wonders if it will turn people's faces red. I wonder if anyone still washes their face with soap. She assures me that she and Nana do. I assure her that they will not be getting any of my paprika soap. She says that red is a bit of a stupid colour for a soap anyway.

It may also smell a little dodgy - paprika is not a classic soap scent. I also added ground cinnamon, coriander seed and cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla scent, honey powder and shea and cocoa butter. So far it smells great (which is an achievement for any soap containing either of those fragrances - they really ming. I was counting on them ageing well), but we shall see... Additionally, it may be brown rather than red. I think that if I call it red I may be able to convince people; if I do not, they might make up their own minds, which I do not want happening.

I really should go into advertising - I can see a dazzling future for me.

So that is waiting to set and be cut, which will happen tomorrow evening. I am very interested to see what colour it goes when it is cool, set and dry. I'm sure that you are, too. If I were to upload photos of it, you would be able to see. I think that my camera charger is in my spare room...



*Sometimes the routes are easy; it is anathema to me to climb them slowly. I have to climb them faster than everyone else, so that I win.

**I may have got my tenses mixed up a little here: I will have made it tomorrow.

***Or I could leave the creative similes until I am awake.

Creative

It being Serena's birthday today, I got to work making presents for her. I am nothing if not organised.

I took away some old nettle tea from her house yesterday, which I used as the base for a rather interesting soap.* The idea behind this is that nettle tea is soothing,** and some of its properties should be present in the soap. To complement this I used a variety of different oils which are also reputed to be gentle on the skin, one which imparts structural integrity and lather to soaps, and a load of additives (butter powder and some clays) to just generally make it better. More is more, and all that.

Alas,*** the soap did funny and weird things. I think that I used too much coconut oil, but can't see how that could have caused so much weirdness. I added extra water and lye and it seemed to settle down. I did forget to cook it for a long time to evaporate of the extra water, though, and now it is a little more sloppy than I would expect a soap to be.**** It needs to be ready on Saturday if I am to give it to Serena for her birthday. I may yet be making another soap.

Ha! What am I talking about? I am so going to make another soap. I saw one which used paprika as both a colourant and an exfoliant, and I have to try that out. I may also make a daffodil one. As I am fast running out of many oils, I shall probably use a lot of corn and olive oils. They are readily available around here.

I also made all sorts of other goodies: exfoliant body butter bars, two different types of face cleansers and a solid moisturiser bar which is water-soluble - the idea behind this is that it doesn't need any preservative as it contains no water, but it still turns into moisturiser when it does get wet. I saved so much money compared to what I would have paid buying similar products from an actual shop.*****

Next I must work on packaging. Also, I must make some conditioner. This may not keep well, so I shall do it tomorrow or Friday. HWSNBN will not be impressed with the kitchen being less than perfect a few days on the run.

He actually made dinner today. I came home to the smell of cottage pie cooking. It was very tasty. There is even enough left over for lunch tomorrow. I am very excited that there is no need for me to have soup for lunch tomorrow. Seriously.

Wow; such sentence structure. Could I have written that previous paragraph any better? Not if I were six years old, that's for sure.




*I am using "interesting" as an euphemism for "worrying".

**Unless you have to drink it. Drinking nettle tea is most assuredly not soothing.

***I think that this might be my favourite word.

****I would not expect a soap to be sloppy. Viscous is as wet as I will accept.

*****I did also buy her a necklace which I believe she has a high probability of liking rather a lot. This came from an actual shop. I am not a total cheapskate. Sometimes it costs more to make things than to buy them. When I realise that, I feel silly.

Bibble

Today I had entertainment in the form of a large machine ripping the roof off the building opposite. Very fun. It created lots of dust - not entirely sure this fits in well with breathing difficulties.

Louise returned home today. I've had a really good time with her visiting. Often we do not seem to have very much to say to each other; this time we watched Buffy. That was nice. I also showed her my favourite charity shop. She bought picture frames. Or maybe pictures. I bought a hoodie of anarchy for Anne, which she has just e-mailed me about. Apparently she likes it.

I am now looking into making my Christmas soap. Last year I decided that it would be very creative and save lots of money to make soap for many people for Christmas. I was right about it being creative. This year I want to do it much better.

My biggest problem last year was that it took so very, very long to package the soaps. There is always a trade-off between fast and cheap, and cheap won. It has to be made of paper rather than plastic, though. Last year I double-wrapped the soap in greaseproof paper and sugar paper, then tied it together with decorative wool. The majority of packages were very attractive (the ones with the pink wool were, frankly, hideous). This year I shall not give up three evenings of my life packaging soap. It gets boring.

I also intend to make more soap this year, and to make different stuff which takes longer to cure. I have made the first batch - an unscented cold process soap, which should be really gentle.

Another intention of mine is not to talk about it in a really boring way. I'm sure you can guess just how successful that will be.

Also, did I say this already? Yay for me?

Soap, vegetables and secondary school

Yesterday's soap has turned a very strange colour - it's lilac (for want of a better word) on the outside, and a weird greenish shade on the inside. I wonder if this is to do with drying out, pH, or oxidation. Or something else I haven't thought about. I hope it improves before tomorrow, at which point I have to give some of it to somebody.

It has all been cut up and is drying in shoe boxes (what? Do you not use shoe boxes to dry soap?), which are useful because they stack well. I now have to start packaging some in preparation for tomorrow.

I went to The Field to gather some vegetables in payment for this bike, only to be met with evidence of my inadequacy. Although I had plenty of beans (plenty being a conservative description) and more than enough artichokes, the peas were long past their best, and it appears that I failed to plant any radishes. This means that I do not have the means to 'pay' for my bike tomorrow. I am hoping to pop into a vegetable shop and fake the peas, but I don't think there is much I can do about the radishes. The really galling thing is that, had I made it there last week, I would probably have had massive amounts of lovely fresh peas to eat, all by myself. I shall have to do better next year. If we get any sun, that will be easier.

*******************

My baby sister, Anne, starts secondary school tomorrow. She will be attending my old school. Our cousin, who is fifteen, will be walking to school with her, which is good - it's reassuring to have someone to walk in with on the first day, and a co-pupil is much more useful and less embarrassing than a parent. She is so lucky to get on with her cousin so well, and to have her living so close by.

When Anne was born, I was fifteen. It seemed that it would take an awfully long time for her to reach this age, and it did. I was mindful that by the time she was my age, I would be 30. I couldn't imagine what I would be doing at that age, and I am still unsure. I don't foresee any children by that point, but I have no clue what career I will be in (I've narrowed it down to four possibilities, one of which is what I am doing now; I could be completely wrong). It doesn't really matter - it's just an age.

Anne was a delightful little baby (except at bedtime), and was wonderful until she was three, then a bit annoying until she was seven, and has reverted to being delightful. Long may it last... I have been making a point of spending time with her these past two summers, as I know she will not be a child for much longer. Last summer she came to stay for a long weekend, and we sat on The Field, eating most of the peas we were picking for the parents, until she suggested we should stop. This year, we visited our other sister, Louise, in Bordeaux.* She had a lovely flat, right in the centre, with a balcony accessible from her bedroom windows. The cockroaches were much cuter than I expected, too. Anne behaved beautifully, and was a lot less annoying than I.** It was good to have the opportunity to get to know her a little better before she changes into a grumpy teenager. I do not look forward to that.

Anyway, good luck to her as she embarks on the next stage of her life. I do hope she turns out to be less lazy than I was, and that she makes friends as good as mine.

*She has actually just arrived back in the UK, I think - she was due to be collected from the airport at 10.30.

**I do hope it doesn't hurt too much if she falls off this pedestal. She's a gymnast, so she should be able to think of an imaginative landing...

Bike and soap

A little while ago I lent my lovely bike, Claud, to some guy and he killed it.* It was my fault, of course; I had left the derailleur system rather badly adjusted, so when this guy dropped it into bottom gear (something I would never do, which is why I didn't pick up on the problem) the dangly bit that holds the chain in the correct position (sorry - please stop me if my language gets too technical) leapt into the back wheel, mangling the chain, much of the making-it-go-forward system, bending a few spokes and bending the frame. The front fork and wheel, the handlebars, and the saddle are still good, but it was not economically viable to repair, especially given Claud's age (44).

I have been meaning to replace Claud for some time, as my other bike is also not in excellent condition;** generally I prefer my bikes to have two pedals. However I cannot afford a new bike, especially not the sort I would particularly like to own. There is a place in town which recycles bikes and sells them on for much less than a new bike would cost, but that is only open during working hours; I happen to work during working hours.

On Friday I decided to take action: I put an advert in our local swap shop e-mail. This came out on Sunday. Today I had an e-mail from a lady who has just the sort of bike I am looking for, apparently. It is 20 years old, so it has a bit of history,*** and it was once used to cross the Sierra Nevada (is that a thing one can do with the Sierra Nevada? If not, it wasn't used for that, after all). It sounds as though it has a cross-bar which goes across, and so will take my lock without any problems. I am looking forward to collecting it.

Of course, this being a swap shop, I have to give something in return. I shall be giving peas, artichokes, french beans (purple) and radishes from my vegetable patch, and some homemade soap. This was the perfect excuse to make some more soap - I hadn't made any since March, and my supplies of nice soaps I would be happy to give to people I don't know well have diminished, along with my supplies of really gentle soap for my poor, delicate skin.****

I therefore made two soaps from the same batch of oils. I took one lot out early and made an unscented cold process soap, which will be ready within six weeks, and left the rest in to make a lime and lemon scented hot process soap, which will be ready after I cut it tomorrow. I shall give some of that soap away to the bike lady, and I hope to make another batch, too. The other batch can be mostly lavender cold process soap, with some jasmine hot process soap to give away.

I made an infusion of alkanet in olive oil to colour my next batch. Alkanet is dark red, and the infusion will be, too. However, it will probably turn the soap blue, lilac, purple or grey, possibly red; apparently it depends on the pH of the soap. I don't quite know what causes the pH of the soap to vary, or what sort of pH leads to what sort of colour, so I have no idea how it will turn out. It should be interesting, though. It is a natural colouring, so it is therefore entirely safe and lovely and better than the artificial alternative in every way. It adds an element of unpredictability... I shall have to make sure I don't use hemp oil or avocado oil in the soap, as the yellow/green could alter the final colour in a negative way.

That was my idea of a less boring post. Perhaps photos would make it less eye-gougingly dull for the rest of you. I should work on that. Perhaps I shall.


*Note how the bike gets a name but the man does not.

**It was acquired by accident, when I was in the middle of my dissertation. Making it work seemed like impossibly good fun at the time, but less fun after I had submitted. I have now accepted that its destiny is to be fixed by someone else.

***I like bikes to have history. I wonder if this is a self-protection mechanism: I know that I am not getting a new bike, so I come up with an obscure reason why old bikes are better anyway. They are more solidly built. 1988 was a peak year for quality bike production. (Oh, but I did love the 1964 one - much more than I love the 1973 one, which is out to claim as many victims as it can. She was named Marigold the Death Bike by her first owner, and has tried to kill three people. I was recommended to put her on the tip rather than return her to her owner. Instead she languishes in my parents' basement, having the occasional part (saddle post) stolen by my little sister. This was not a popular move. The bike is no longer comfortable to ride. But I digress.)

****Stupid poor, delicate skin. Drives me mad. I am not the sort of person to have allergies and sensitive skin. I am an 'I can do that' sort of person, and I would like 'that' to include eating bread, pasta, cake, sausages and all sorts of other tasty but gluten-containing foods, using scented moisturiser, using biological washing powder and shaving my legs.*****

*****Yes, that's a lovely image, isn't it? You're welcome.