progress...

Dreary, wet and cold.  Yep that describes today.  Perfect.  For the first time in forever I slept the full night, woke to rain hitting the chimney. So calming.  Yesterday was full of activity and I am sure it exhausted me.  I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I lost track of time. Before I knew it the clock was telling me that it was hours past my bedtime. 

I finished three soaps.  They are setting up and I truly hope when I unmold them in a couple of days that they will have turned out as wonderful as I hope. Oat Milk, Orange Rose and Sunshine are all sitting on shelves, waiting.  

They all need at least 24 more hours before I can try taking them out of the molds and cutting them.  The scents that filled the air were fresh and energizing. I think that is one of my favorite things about making soap. The scents.  Our house is filled with the smells of orange, yuzu and a hint of rose. There are other scents that linger in the mixes that I can't even begin to describe the scent of the Oat Milk soap as golden oat (the name of it) doesn't help in the least.  It's clean and refreshing.  

Oat Milk Soap

Orange Rose Soap

It takes about two hours to make a batch.  A lot of which is spent waiting, waiting for oils to heat, waiting for lye and oils to cool to the same temperature so that they can be mixed into a creamy soap. To fill all that time waiting, I cleaned out my soaping closet, figured out that I truly need to stop buying shea butter.  Seems I have forgotten I had plenty of it at least 5 times.  I am now in search of lots of soaping recipes that need shea butter.  Would hate for that to go rancid. As I went through my supplies and molds (goodness - I believe I already admitted to a terrible addiction) unfortunately I only have one tall mold or I would have made a few more bars. 

After hours spent standing in the kitchen making beautiful soaps it was time for a break.  I really shouldn't spend hours looking through Pinterest. Should have focused on the projects I had already decided on or maybe taken a nap. 

Instead, I daydreamed.  

I have to admit when I am finally able to retire, I will definitely never be bored. 

I had planned to cut out mittens and sleds yesterday morning, Hubs had other ideas.  He was out in the garage working on his desk project.  A friend gave him a rather beat up look old desk.  You could tell it was most likely handmade and it was definitely old.  Probably 80 or 90 years old.  He's been sanding it and getting ready to stain it.  Yesterday, he reached that goal.  I was not going to be using the saw in the garage.  

That desk though...

I've been pleading with him to keep it, to do away with his industrial style and enjoy the beauty of that antique.  During a soaping break I thought I would peek out and check on his progress.  He was so engrossed in the stain work, that I am not sure he even noticed I was there. Cigar held tight in his teeth, focused on each swipe of the brush.  He looked so calm. 

I have a covered deck now and it was fairly warm, it was an easy fix.  Hubs helped me set up on the deck and I started cutting.  It's been years since I have touched a saw.  Years since I have lost myself in the intentional act of carefully cutting out traced lines.  Breathing in the scent of sawdust.  Gently blowing it away so that I could focus on the lines.  It made both of us remember the past.  

It seems so long ago. We'd spend hours in our basement, cutting wood shapes, crafting gifts when money was too tight to go shopping. Those days, that time filled me with joy.  Yesterday reminded me of that sweet time. As I cut the shapes, Hubs kept me company, we chatted like it was over a decade ago. Nothing earth shattering, just chatter, about family, friends, ideas, thoughts hopes and dreams.

I don't know what was better the act of using my hands, muscle memory snapping back in an instant, or enjoying that simple memory of a much simpler time.  Not as much money, far more time for making memories. 

I'd put the base coat on all of my painting projects last night, I'd forgotten how easily time slipped away when I had a paint brush in my hand.  This morning fueled by copious amounts of coffee, I sat down on the stool at the kitchen counter and started painting. The mittens are rustic, they are mindless work, hours later I finished all but the final four.  I vaguely saw the clock, the hours of the morning slipping by... seven, eight, nine, ten... just before eleven Hubs came in from the garage.  Starving.  Seems I forgot his breakfast.  

I forgotten how much I love to paint. Even simple projects bring joy. 

I cannot for the life of me believe that tomorrow is already Thanksgiving.  Half way through our days off.  Normally time flies.  It hasn't been.  It's been leisurely, calming and relaxing. For the first time in far too long, I feel rested.

Tomorrow will be a day full of traditions, pies to bake, cream to whip.  Our offerings to the meal are mostly purchased, but one simply needs homemade pies. We will work on continuing to blend our family.  We will miss our boy, maybe the smallest girl (she might be with Dad) but we will celebrate family and each other. 

Tomorrow might be void of creating material things, but full of creating memories. 

I'm excited, nervous, and full of anticipation. 

I am curled up with my mug of hot Gluhwein, listening to the wind moving my beautiful wind chimes and celebrating life. 

Thankful... you?