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You know when you read about historical figures and they have about 15 professions on their resume? Lawyer, surveyor, farmer, inventor, diplomat, author, candle maker, printer, pharmacist, postmaster, explorer. Nowadays when someone asks “What do you do?” you’re supposed to answer with just one thing. I’m a pharmacist. Except I think that’s seriously boring, because that’s not really what I do. Sure, I pharmacist from time to time, but when I think of my identity, I don’t think “pharmacist.” So what do I do? What do I want my Wikipedia page to say? Sure, pharmacist. But that’ll be at the bottom.

Casey
Mom, wife, homemaker, urban homesteader, baker, amateur chef, do-it-yourselfer, teacher, entrepreneur, seamstress, yarn enthusiast, soap-maker, gardener, and yes, pharmacist.

Any one of those is enough to be an “occupation,” but why tie yourself down to one thing? How boring is that? Keep adding to your unofficial resume, and keep life interesting.

People with atopic dermatitis, that’s who. For real, though, I’m just majorly itchy all the time and that’s the worst. But you know what’s not the worst? Making my own soap. My skin likes me more now, and, as a bonus, it’s seriously fun and easy to make. Want to try? You should.

I’m not going to get too much into the complicated business of how each type of oil is different and why you might want to combine different types, but if you want more details shoot me an email. To keep it simple,

SOAP = FAT + (LYE + WATER)

Easy peasy. So why is it so scary? It’s not difficult, and special equipment isn’t really needed. Lye is the part that seems to freak people out. It’s why I wear gloves and safety glasses during the “dangerous” parts. But it’s seriously no more dangerous than working with bleach, and most of us use that without any protective equipment at all. Back in the day, lye was extracted from wood ash, but now it’s readily available online or in your local store next to the drain cleaner. It’s only dangerous when it gets wet, so DON’T GET IT WET UNTIL YOU’RE READY, AND ALWAYS HANDLE IT WITH GLOVES AND SAFETY GLASSES. For real. Nobody wants chemical burns here. But seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.

Basic steps:

1. Gather your equipment.
2. Measure your ingredients.
3. Melt the fat.
4. Mix the lye solution.
5. Let them cool down.
6. Mix together.
7. Pour into a mold.
8. Wait 24 hours.
9. Cut.
10. Wait until “done.” (3-5 weeks… sorry) 

    How easy is that? The whole thing (minus the final waiting period in step 10) takes maybe a half hour from start to finish. Keep reading for more details about each step.

    1. Gather your equipment. You will need a saucepan. You will also need either a spatula and/or an immersion blender. Immersion blender (also known as a stick blender) gets the whole thing done within a couple of minutes, but a spatula will work too if you don’t mind stirring for a while. You will need a digital kitchen scale. Finally, you will need a container to hold the lye and water mixture. This will get HOT, so don’t use anything that will melt.
    2. Accurately measure your ingredients. You need fat of some sort (coconut oil and/or lard are excellent options for your first batch, but it can be as complicated as you want), lye, and a liquid to dissolve the lye in. Water is the standard option, but you can use something else if you’d rather (in this batch, I used apple cider vinegar to help condition my hair, as I was making this to use as shampoo). How much of everything should I use? Check out this handy lye calculator to determine how much of everything you’ll need (or email me if you need help figuring it out).
       
    3. Melt the fat. Pretty self-explanatory. Mine took a little longer to melt completely because I added a bit of beeswax to make the bar harder (I don’t want it melting quite as fast in the shower).
       
    4. GENTLY pour your measured lye into your water. Make sure to add the lye to the water, and not the other way around. The last thing you want is water splashing lye into your face. WEAR YOUR GLOVES AND GOGGLES FOR THIS. Stir to dissolve all the lye. Keep your face away from this. It’s going to get crazy hot and it’ll release some gases that you really don’t want to breathe in. It’s not “open-the-windows” bad, but don’t stick your nose in it. Mine is a funny color because of my choice of liquid. If you use water it’ll be clear or slightly cloudy. You can see on the sides of my container that the liquid is steaming. This liquid will give both a heat AND chemical burn, so keep your goggles and gloves on until this liquid is out of the picture.
       
    5. Let both products cool down until you can comfortably touch the outside of the container and saucepan with your bare hand. They can be warm, but you don’t want them hot. You want them roughly the same temperature.
    6. Put your saucepan of fat in the sink (this is just to avoid splatter and keep your kitchen clean. SLOWLY add the lye solution into the fat. We don’t want splashing here. Now is when you break out your immersion blender and start mixing. Or you can use a spatula or whisk if you’d rather. As you mix the solution it will start to turn a creamy white color. Once you see what’s called a “trace,” you’re done! Basically, you’re looking for something the consistency of pudding. When you move the spoon or mixer across the pot it should leave a “trace” of where you moved through the liquid. This is when you can add in any fragrance if that’s something that interests you. That’s it! You just made soap!
    7. Pour your soapy goop into a mold of some sort. I’ve used Pringles containers in the past, but I recently got myself an actual soap mold (things are getting serious over here). You can use pretty much anything you want that’s water-tight. Just make sure you use something that you can get the soap OUT of. A silicone muffin or bread pan would work great, but if you use a glass or metal pan then there’s no way to get the soap out (or if you use something like a Pringles can, you can tear it apart to get the soap out).
    8. Wait approximately 24 hours before removing it from the mold. This gives it time to cool down and set up. If you remove it too early it won’t hold its shape and you’ll have a real mess on your hands.
    9. Cut into bars.
       
    10. Now we wait. How long? Until it’s done. That’s not terribly helpful, is it? I use what’s called the “cold process method.” This means that I mix everything together, and then let it sit until the excess water has evaporated out. It has the shortest hands-on time, but a long hands-off time. It usually takes 3-5 weeks before it’s “ready.” There’s another method called “hot process,” which is where you mix everything together and then cook out the extra water. This requires more hands-on time, but it’s ready to use almost immediately. I don’t want to do that, because these children really want to get covered in lye. I’m not ok with that, so I make it as fast as possible and don’t mind letting it sit for a month. It helps to turn the soaps periodically, to make sure they can dry out evenly. I probably turn mine once a week (maybe more if I want to poke them a little – it makes me feel like I’m doing something).

It’s important to note that all materials used in this process must be made out of glass, heat-proof plastic, or a NON-REACTIVE METAL (this means we’re avoiding aluminum, cast iron, and copper). Stainless steel is fine.

It’s seriously easy, and fun to customize. You can make it more moisturizing, you can make it organic, you can add coffee grounds for a delightful smelling, exfoliating experience. You can make it customized to your exact skin type. IT’S AWESOME, AND YOU SHOULD TRY IT!

Or, you can shoot me an email about what you’re looking for in a bar of soap and I’ll have it customized to your specifications and ready for delivery in 1 month. How cool is that?

And yours can, too! Some people use candles, some use air freshening sprays or plug-ins. I’m using simple things I had laying around the house (though I recognize that most people probably do not have these things sitting around).

Madeline was skeptical at first. I mean… dried lemons? Who dries lemons? Someone who bought lemons impulsively and then immediately realized she didn’t plan on making anything with lemons, that’s who (though I also dried the lemon that’s been hanging out on my lemon tree for the past year because I’m sick of looking at it). Rosemary is fresh from my indoor “garden,” though I plan on drying some sprigs to make some more ready-to-use home scent packets. Vanilla is homemade (because of course it is). I fished out a vanilla bean and used that, but you could also use a teaspoon of extract or a piece of an ordinary dry vanilla bean (no need to use up a whole bean on this).

After careful consideration (and some overenthusiastic sniffing), she approved of the combination and authorized its use.

Well that looks gross. I’ve been simmering it (low heat on the back burner) for about 5 hours now and my house has smelled amazing all day. I’m keeping the lid on so I don’t evaporate all the water, but the smell is still making it out to the rest of the house. It’s like the best candle ever. It’s bright and fresh, but earthy. There’s a warm depth to it, a mild herbaceous quality, and a subtle sweetness. I can close my eyes and it feels like summer.

And the living room smells less like poop, which is what I was really going for.

Lemon, Rosemary and Vanilla Simmering Scent

2 slices of lemon (fresh or dried)

1 sprig of rosemary (fresh or dried)

1/3 vanilla bean, or 1 tsp vanilla extract

Add to roughly 3 cups of water in a saucepan, and place on a back burner on low heat. Leave the lid on. Check it periodically to make sure the water level isn’t dropping too low. Alternatively, you can put everything in a small slow-cooker and let it go.

There are probably as many ways to start and keep sourdough as there are people who make it. I, like most people, think my way is the best way. This is my sourdough, who has yet to be named. I’ve been neglecting raising him for about 5 months now.

He’s like a pet that doesn’t mind being ignored. I feed him whenever I remember, and occasionally he provides me with a delightfully tangy loaf of bread. You know. Just a typical pet/pet owner relationship.

So what the heck IS sourdough, anyway? It’s weird, is what it is. You’re basically trying to catch and raise wild yeast and good bacteria. The bacteria creates acid as a byproduct (which gives it the tangy flavor), and the yeast makes bubbles that makes the bread rise.

Want to try it? There are a bunch of “recipes” out there for making a sourdough starter, but the easiest way is to mix equal amounts of flour and water (start with 1/4 cup of each) and then wait. I keep mine in a Tupperware container on the counter with the lid sitting on top but not locked in place. A starter is alive and it needs to breathe, and it also releases gases as it grows, so you don’t want it to be airtight. Give it a day or two, and take a look. You want to see some bubbles. If there are NO bubbles, you can add a pinch of yeast to speed up the process. Add more flour and water (equal amounts) again. Feed it like this whenever you feel like it.

Sometimes I feed it a lot, sometimes I feed it a little, sometimes I forget to feed it for days and days. I feed mine all purpose flour, bread flour, rye flour and whole wheat flour. Whatever strikes my fancy at the moment. The changing makeup of my starter keeps the flavor complex and interesting, but you can use whatever you want. Don’t forget to add an equal amount of water at each feeding (it’s ok to eyeball it once you get a good feel for the proper consistency). Feed it a lot the day before you want to use it to make sure it’s happy and ready to go. If it’s too active at room temperature, or you only want to use it very occasionally, you can keep it in the fridge and only feed it every week or so (though it can probably go quite a while longer between feedings if you forget). Just bring it back to room temp before using it.

How do you know when it’s “good”? Take a whiff. It should have a weird, yogurt-like, kind of boozy smell. If it smells BAD, throw it out. The bacteria we’re looking for don’t smell bad, which means you’ve grown something else. As far as consistency goes, you want it bubbly. It’s like a spongy, thick batter.

“I’ve heard you need to throw half of it away every time you feed it…what’s the deal with that?” I have literally no idea. I’ve done a lot of reading on the subject, and it just doesn’t make sense. Apparently you’re supposed to keep the same volume of starter on hand at all times, and throw out a scoop when you feed it with a scoop each day. That’s silly. I don’t do that. Just keep feeding it a few spoonfuls every few days until you have enough to bake with. I usually use up 75% of my starter each time I bake, and then I begin the slow process of regrowing it.

You should give it a try. It’s weird, but good. Kinda like me.

…but I’m totally not. This conversation actually happened.

“MADELINE!!!”

*looks up, definitely startled*

“What do I keep telling you?!!”

“….one thing at a time.”

“No, the other thing.”

“…be nicely.”

“No, the other thing.”

“… … …I gotta calm down”

“No, damnit Madeline, about the table”

“…I don’t know.” *shrugs*

“We don’t eat the table, Madeline. I just said it. We don’t eat the table.”

“But I’m so HUNGRY” *wails in anguish*

“You have a bowl of cereal right in front of you. Cereal you asked for. Eat it.”

“But I’m hungry for the table!!!”

*mom bangs head on table repeatedly*

Ok, so not the worst day. This morning I had a class to renew my CPR training, which took way too long. Then a chiropractor appointment, which went just fine (my whole body hurts – isn’t that great?). Then a dentist appointment to take a look at a rough spot on my tooth. Turns out a filling came loose and needed to be replaced. So now my face is numb (which IS the worst), and my whole body hurts from being tense and shaking like a cartoon character through the whole thing (not a fan of the dentist…can you tell?).  Probably should have thought ahead and scheduled the chiropractor for AFTER the dentist rather than before.

Anyway, sorry, today’s just a complaining kind of day I guess. Tomorrow will be better. That’s the mantra of the day. Tomorrow will be better.

In better news, yesterday was my last day of traveling an hour to and from work every day! And my last day of full time employment! Yay! I’ll now be working 2.5 days per week much closer to home. Which means I have more time to spend on job #2 (instead of what I’ve been doing, which is both jobs on most days…I’m so, so tired). So anyway, things are looking up. Just not today.

It’s a strange fact that being connected to the world makes many of us feel more isolated and alone than ever before. The fact that we all share the airbrushed “perfect” moments of our lives, and rarely delve into the depths of our low points, really only helps to make us feel alone when we’re going through a difficult time. “She’s got 2 adorable kids, she has 2 jobs, keeps a clean home, and she even has time to make bread by hand twice per week! Why can’t I make it through one day without feeling like a failure as a parent?” Well I’m here to tell you that you’re not alone. I’m NOT just my online persona. We all need to remember that none of us post the bad as much as the good. I yell at my children. I hide in the bathroom when I just need a few minutes to myself. I let my house fall into chaos before I summon the energy to clean it all up. I feel like I’m failing my son when he doesn’t learn as quickly as his sister. I feel like I’m failing my daughter when she just wants me to read her a story and I just need her to get away from me for 10 minutes. I feel like I’m failing as a wife when I give all my energy to work and the kids and have nothing left for him. I feel like I should be doing more, but I can’t seem to get the motivation to get off the couch. I take antidepressants. You’re not alone. So the next time you feel like a failure, remember that you’re no more a failure than I am. And I’m a pretty kick-ass lady.

Seriously, though. As my husband says, “Sleep is just a pause button for her.” Don’t think that telling her “we’ll find your gloves at the masquerade ball tomorrow” will get you off the hook. She’ll wake up, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and her first words to you will be “Can we go to the masquerade ball now?!! I need to find my gloves!! Can we, can we, CAN WE??!?!?!?” with much jumping and excited clapping of hands.

And no, I don’t have any idea why she’s so worked up about her gloves (she’s never had any) being left behind at a masquerade ball (she’s never been to one). Just accept that it happened and move on. You’re not going to win this one.