Of All Things, Why These?

I could live without potato chips. I have. They're bad for you anyways, all that oil and salt. I could also live without French fries. Those would be a real test, especially if they're fried in really good fat, like beef fat. But I could do it. I enjoy vegetable sides as much or more than fries.

I could live without raisins, or prunes, or wine. I could live without oranges or orange juice. I'm not particularly a citrus fanatic. I can, and have, completely ignored coffee, although I enjoy the smell. I do not need large doses of caffeine to get me going, nor do I want to be addicted to it.

So with all those things I would be fine with were my body to reject them, of course it instead picks things I love eating.

Milk, ice cream, whipped cream. I can no longer consume these items without severe pain, but I do it anyways. Milk with my cookies, ice cream when I find a to-die-for flavor, whipped cream when I damn well want it. Let's face it; the soy, rice and coconut substitutes are okay in a pinch, but they just don't approach the richness of real milk for me. I never curse myself or my choice for my pain. I curse my stomach and intestines.

Vinegar, tomato sauce, acidic foods. These cause as much pain as the dairy, sometimes more if I consume a large amount (salad with spaghetti in marinara anyone?). Malt vinegar on fish and chips was pure heaven. I loved vinegar so much I could almost drink it straight. Not anymore. And no tomato sauce? Please, I was raised on barrels of homemade tomato sauce in my half-Sicilian home. How dare you, Intestines! I swear I'm going to rip you out and replace you.

Spicy food. Salsa, red and green chili,  hot and sour soup, spicy szechuan anything. I love it all, the hotter the better. Damn the torpedoes, I'll still eat it. But now I have to take a stomach acid reducer beforehand just to survive.

Every year something gets crossed off the list. Not something I couldn't care about anyways, it's always something I love. When I complain I'm told "ït's part of getting old". No it isn't, it's part of your body just plain betraying you after years of faithful service. Even though I never drank much caffeine to start with I now cannot have more than half a 12 ounce Coke or Pepsi without problems. But it wasn't something I loved, so it isn't hard to let go of that.

And yes, I know and sympathize with those a lot more unfortunate than I, who have chronic diseases that don't allow them to enjoy foods they loved too. But I don't have a disease (that I or my doctor know of), I didn't start this way.

Is it too much to ask to be able to enjoy a small cone with your kids at the local Dairy Queen? I want my food back, dammit.

Sugar Scrubbed

So of course I couldn't mention it without then having to make it. At 10:30 last night I was whipping up some Brown Sugar Scrub Soap, which used a goat's milk base, some real brown sugar, and some cocoa butter. I also own Brown Sugar fragrance oil, which I generously added to the mix.

I love real cocoa butter because it comes in these creamy-colored chunks that smell like chocolate, and it melts on your skin on contact. Just really luxurious. Of course the low melting point makes it difficult to work with when it is hot out like last night. I had a deal of a time getting it cut and off my fingers into the melting cup.

I like real shea butter too, and it also melts on contact, but it doesn't have that lovely aroma. Still, if you're going to superfat melt and pour soap, you can't go wrong with either of them. You just can't add too much or your soap turns into an oily mess.

You can see flecks of the brown sugar and that's just fine....it's supposed to be scrubby and silky. And it smells warm and caramel-like and sugary, almost good enough to eat. In fact it's a touch too sweet and next time I may tone it down with something. But for now I'm going to test run it tonight in the shower and see if I can get my husband to complain that I smell like "spilled ice cream" (he doesn't like sweet food-scented candles and protests when I buy them that they smell like spilled ice cream, way too sweet).

Hey, I'll take "spilled ice cream" smell over "sweated all day in the hot sun driving my car with the broken A/C" smell any day. Must be a girl thing.

Bursting Bubbles

Yes, I am still writing for my blog. Heat and a general unsettled-ness over the past few weeks left me unwilling to put my then-thoughts down....it really would not have been good reading material. Self-recrimination, unhappiness, and occasionally despair might make for a decent movie if you throw in some CGI, car chases and an arc with Important Life Lessons, but in everyday life it's just grindingly boring.

I credit my eight year old for pulling me out of my inertia, at least temporarily, and reigniting the urge to create in me. It has made me dig out old books and supplies, surf the internet looking for classes, and consider how best to handle hazardous materials in the presence of children and animals. Just seeing the excitement on his face was worth it. Soapmaking, I forgot how much I like it.

From my (embarrassingly large) store of scents, he chose coconut, to match his commercial shampoo. He then considered the supplies before him and chose the shea butter base. Then he was allowed to observe as I cut the base into pieces, melted them in the microwave, added the scent (I added a few drops of Butter Vanilla with the Coconut for some nice sweetness and depth), and poured it into the molds. I had enough for my elder son to have some, since he wandered into the kitchen last minute and begged for some soap too.

When the soaps popped out of the molds a couple of hours later, his whole face lit up. "Can I take a bath NOW, Mom?"

Yes, yes you may. Have at it, and enjoy. He had so much fun he lathered himself three times. Afterwards he came bouncing down the stairs and asked me if he smelled of coconut. Of course he did, which delighted him.

Yesterday he asked me for Strawberry scented soap, since strawberries are his favorite fruit.

This time he selected the Goat's Milk base for some creamy luxuriant lather. This kid is all about luxury. So of course I added powdered goat's milk in bubble-inducing glycerin, a few drops of red colorant, and a dash of exciting sparkle powder (you can just barely see it in the pic) to wrap it all up. The strawberry scent I kept single-note, for juiciness.

Another hit, another bath. Three latherings. I've never heard of a kid who loves bathing so much. The bathroom smells like coconuts and strawberries.

I'm wondering what will happen when I make my brown sugar scrub soap again.