|Soap from another day. Another much better day.|
So I admit it. My multitasking skills are slipping. How do I know ? This is how I know. I wanted to write. I also wanted to make soap. I did not have time to do both. But then...I had an idea. I put a bunch of bars into the crock pot on low (or so I thought) with enough water (or so I thought) to rebatch. I then went upstairs to write while the muse beckoned. Soon, the muse left as phones rang, and doors slammed and voices chattered from the nether floors below. Dogs barked, donkeys brayed and nursing piglets slurpped. I tried to concentrate but failed, so I threw in some laundry and the Muse returned. Smell of Tide I guess.
I wrote. Then it came time to get other work done downstairs. Husband sitting at the kitchen table. Says nothing about the soap. I then notice the crock pot is unplugged. Hmmmmm, and the sides of the crock pot are covered with soap yet the counter is clean. I begin the interrogation.
-Did it bubble over ?
-The Soap, I specify.
-Oh yeah, but just about a cups worth.
I wonder why he didn't just tell me when it happened so I could stir it down and save some of the soap. Then I remembered the last time he interrupted me when I was writing. I almost "rebatched" him. No wonder he didn't brave the staircase to (hardly) heaven. I picked up the glass lid of the CP and the stoopid thing slipped out of my grasp and broke on the counter. Now I am ticked.
But I say nothing. I'm not sure but I don't think he had anything to do with the crock pot lid breaking. Then do you know what he says ? He says,
-Are you hurt ?
Can you believe that ?! He doesn't even ask about the soap. I mutter that I am indeed OK and I clean up the glass. Then I grab a spoon and start stirring the soap. Hey, this stuff looks good. And it smells fantastic but there are still a couple hard chunks so I try to break them up. Dang things are rock hard. I mean ROCK hard. Waaaait a minute. That's not hard soap that's big chunks of glass. In my going to be beautiful rebatched soap.
To insult my soaps injury Keith informs me.
"You can't use that soap Hon. Just throw it out"
Why ? I ponder to myself. WHY CAN'T I ? ITS MY SOAP ISN'T IT ?!
Then I fast forward to the future. A man walks up to me at my first soap show. His arms are hemorrhaging.
-Yes Sir. Did you come back to buy more soap sir ? Me grinning goofy like.
-Why no ma'am. I think theres' glass or something in here. It hurt awful bad when I was washing up.
- Glass ? In my soap? Not possible. You must be overdosing on your coumadin and you scrubbed too hard
-No ma'am. I don't take any medications. It was your soap. I wasn't bleeding before I started to use it and now I am.
-(Slightly irritated now cause I KNOW it was good soap) Sir ? Did you read the ingredient list on my soap ? Does it say "glass" anywhere ? You know, like "essential glass"?
-Well, no ma'am it didn't. (shuffles feet) I must be wrong. He walks away. Dripping blood on my nice table cloth.
I call an ambulance anyway.
YES. I threw away all the soap.
YES. I peaked at it in the garbage 3 hours later. It set up real purty. I knew it would.