I think the shelves are now full. We moved the 19th century wicker perambulator (yes, that's what my mom called those contraptions when I was a kid - and no, I wasn't alive in the 19th century) out of our bedroom to make room for soap-drying shelves. I needed a place for the soaps to cure without being surrounded by airborne dog hair or ash from our wood-burning stove.
The upstairs seemed like a good idea, for the dogs have been gated from the upstairs so long that when the gate is left open, they don't remember that they can actually walk up the steps to kill the cats who live there - Lionel and Tuppence. Miraculously, the cats have been ignoring the soaps, rather than walking among them, knocking them over, or batting them about the floor like hockey pucks - or more likely, mice.
These are generous slices of lemon verbena, fresh out of the mold. At this stage, they are very soft. If I had a stamp that read 'Cranberry Morning,' rather than 'Library of Judy Masrud,' I would stamp my soaps at this stage.
We've got only a few more weeks before the first soaps are fully cured. Then I can put labels on them and push them out into the big, cruel world. I can hardly wait.
Today I'm going to try to swirl two colors of soap together. I think it's like making a marble cake, only scarier.
Do you have a project for the day?