I was one of the stricken.
I even rented a booth in a local antique store and sold decoratively painted pots, suitcases, doors, windows, glassware and anything else with a paintable surface. Two of my sisters allowed me to paint flowers on their bathroom walls. The third sister claimed her landlord would not allow any wall painting. She must have forgotten she owned her home.
That summer I painted my donkeys ass (or was it my ass's donkey ?) and won Best Of Show at the Melvin County Fair much to the embarrassment of my teenage children. About 6 months and $600 later in supplies, I decided the sunflowers with big squiggly leaves was not for me. The mailbox at the end of our lane was the last item I painted. If I remember right I sold $596 worth of fabulous artwork, nearly breaking even minus the 6 months of booth rental.
Well, my husband thought it was fabulous. My greatest fan that guy. I could be making homemade bread out of sawdust and he'd not only eat it, he'd try to convince the schools to use it in their school lunch program.
That was 7 years ago. My granddaughters are still painting with the leftover bottles of acrylic paint. I may have overbought some supplies.
But soaping...now that is NOT the same thing at all. For one thing, no one else has soap like I do. Unless they make it up as they go (short on coconut oil ? then a little motor oil should work just fine) and then pour it into a mold that is nothing more than an empty diaper wipe container. Do you people do that ? Do ya huh ? No, I didn't think so.
|At first I saw beautiful fudge, now I see the huge roots of overgrown|
molars in a dental X-ray.
Waiting all night or heaven forbid a full 24 hrs until results can be visualized as I cut into my soap loaf, is like waiting for Bill Murray to pick me to be on his volleyball team all over again. Excruciating.
I am telling you...this is serious business. I plan to be making soap until I sell at least enough to pay for that expensive essential oil order I nabbed off of EBay last week. Which means I'll be making soap until I'm 112.
But that's OK, that will give me plenty of time to improve my soap photography skills which stink. Either I have the wrong background
|One wood table under a glaring overhead light turns|
green soap yellow. Got it.
|At least this time the green soap looks a little green|
Yes, yes I can.