I was tired of the old wire rack in my store that looked ugly and never kept the bars upright so I recycled an old wooden silverware box for a new display. I covered the vintage blue velvet which was probably keen in Elvis's day but over time had taken on the appearance of tacky, with some new burlap. Final result, not too glam, not to shabby, good enough for my farmy store.
I stayed up late trimming bars, wrapping with my label and then adding the ingredient label before I arranged each of the bars in a charming and attractive manner, or so I told myself. Pleased with my new display box, I lovingly carried it to my store cooing all the time "Who's the prettiest box on the farm? No, YOU are, No, YOU are..."
After settling it into its new home on top of the antique childs school desk, I reluctantly walked away. Thats when the unthinkable happened. Why oh why didn't I lock the farm store door??!
Some heathen, some dirty heathen hiding behind the innocence of an infant, BOUGHT my soap. Lots of my soap and before I could recover someone else came in and bought more and before the day was over 2/3 of the boxes contents were gone...POOF...just like that. Don't you just hate that? You work so hard brewing the stuff, unmolding it, trimming it, wrapping it with care and love and then you blink and it's just gone. If I had meant for people to buy my soap I would've put prices on them.
I may have to go back to paiting mason jars using the Donna Dewberry method. No one ever bought that