Wild Rose Cold Process Soap (Recipe!)

Yesterday, I decided to play around with some new  recipes for cold processed soap that didn’t call for a lot of fancy, or expensive oils.  This one pictured above was made with olive oil, coconut oil, and castor oil.  Pretty simple.

Whenever you test new recipes (or try a new hobby – if you’ve never made soap before), it’s important to start small.  Make a 1 lb batch first, to see if you like it, if it’s going to work out, etc.  Otherwise, you could end up wasting expensive ingredients, and potentially have a bit of a disaster on your hands.

The jury is still out on this one, but so far, they have solidified well and smell amazing.  The tiny bits left over on my molds even seemed to lather nicely during cleanup today….so I think we may have a decent bar of soap on our hands.  As always though, time will tell.  (these should be ready in about 4-6 weeks)

These were made with locally harvested wild rose petals and rosehips – dried thoroughly and then ground into much smaller bits, almost like powder.  If you have a coffee grinder, this helps.

For color, I used beet root powder….and because I like clay in my soaps, I also added a bit of kaolin clay to the batter.

The following recipe is for a small, 1 lb batch – if you would like to make more, please run your amounts through a lye calculator like this one.  It’s not like doubling a baking recipe!

What you’ll need:

Dedicated soapmaking tools (you can’t use these for food afterward, so set these aside just for this): hand blender (not necessary, but sooooo nice to have), large glass or heat-proof plastic measuring cups/pitchers, table spoons and tea spoons (make sure they’re aluminum free), spatula(s), whisks (again, aluminum free), large mason jar for lye/water, large glass or heat-proof plastic mixing bowl, digital food scale, laser thermometer, safety glasses, latex gloves, apron, and soap molds.

If you’ve never made soap before, stop what you’re doing and read this first.  I’m serious.  This isn’t a hobby you can just jump into – working with lye can be very dangerous, and you need to read about the safety of it first.

I know this probably seems like a lot, and it is, but once you have this you’ll be able to make soap whenever you want!

Ingredients (all measurements are by weight):

10.5 ounces  – olive oil

5.25 ounces – coconut oil

0.5 ounces – castor oil (this helps with the bubbles)

5 ounces – distilled water

2.4 ounces – Lye (sodium hydroxide)

Mix your oils together, and warm them slightly until the coconut oil is liquid.  I use the microwave in 30 second bursts.  Don’t let it get too hot, you don’t want to scorch the oils. Set aside.

Make sure you’re working in a well-ventilated area: the fumes during this next step can be strong.  For this reason, I like to mix my lye under the exhaust fan above my stove top (on, of course), with all the windows open in my house.

Also, now is the time to wear your safety glasses, gloves, apron, etc.  Lye burns are no joke.

In your large glass mason jar, measure 5 ounces of water into it.  Slowly add the lye to this mixture. NEVER add water to lye – it could explode and burn you.  Stir with an aluminum free spoon, until the mixture is clear.  This mixture will get very hot in the jar.  Don’t spill or splash it, and set it aside (labelling it is a good idea too).

A lot of people recommend letting the lye water cool to around 115 degrees, and making sure your oils are around the same temperature.  I’m a bit loose with this rule – but I’ve been soaping a while so I don’t recommend following my lead if it’s your first time.  Take the temperatures of your oils and lye periodically and wait for them to cool.  (I hate waiting, and this part can take a while)

Once your lye water and oils are around 115 degrees, it’s time to combine them.  It’s important to be careful here too – because any splashing can cause burns.

If you’re using a hand blender, put that into your oils and kind of tilt and bang it to get the air bubbles out from under the blades.  Don’t turn it on yet.  Slowly pour your lye water directly onto the shaft of your hand blender. This minimizes splashing.

Turn your hand blender to low, and pulse it a few times to begin mixing the lye and oils.  Be careful not to lift the blender out of the mixture.  If you don’t have a hand blender, you can use a whisk (aluminum free) – just be careful not to whisk too hard causing air bubbles….also, keep in mind that hand mixing will take a lot longer.  Continue to blend until your mixture reaches trace.  For this soap, I like to stop mixing at a light trace, because floral additives can sometimes really speed things up on you.

Here’s a good look at what “trace” means.

Once you’ve reached trace, your soap is ready to pour into molds.  You can add colors, additives, and fragrance at this point….or go au-naturel and have a dye free, scent free bar.  Your call.

Here’s a look at the additives I added at this point:

1 tbsp ground wild rose petals and rosehips

3/4 tbsp kaolin clay

1/2 tsp beet root powder (for pink color)

0.5 ounces fragrance (I used one called: “Rose Bouquet”)

I mixed well, and then glopped into my silicone molds (as I said, floral additives speed up trace – which means it got a lot thicker on me).  Cover with cling wrap, and insulate with towels around it.

Let these sit for at least 24-48 hours in the mold.  When you unmold them, set them somewhere dry and cool to cure for 4-6 weeks.(I use a wire rack to maximize airflow)

 

Hope is a 4 letter word.

Today I wanted to write a little bit about my complicated relationship with hope.

Hope doesn’t come easy to me anymore….but surprisingly (really surprisingly actually), it does still come.

Tomorrow, I will be 14 weeks pregnant.  I am in the second trimester. As far as I know, baby is still in there, still alive, and doing well.

As far as I know.

We had an ultrasound at our 12 week appointment.  I wasn’t prepared for that, or expecting it – but it was a nice surprise.

What we saw on the screen was shocking.  It wasn’t some random alien-looking blob like all of our other ultrasounds….this actually looked like a baby.  There was a head, body, and visible arms and legs.  And it was moving.  Really moving.

Our doctor let us watch for a while, which I’m thankful for – because I couldn’t tear my eyes away.  It was mesmerizing.

I’ve never before seen a wriggly, baby-looking thing inside me before.  The way it was moving, it looked like it was doing a backstroke (swimming) inside me.  It moved from the top of the sac to the bottom, and then back again…..seemingly happy, healthy, safe and totally alive.

That ultrasound changed something in me.  It opened the door for hope a little wider than it had been previously.  A lot wider, if I’m being honest.

Yet, with hope comes fear.  (another 4 letter word)

Being pregnant after loss is all about balance.  Learning to balance hope and fear.  Negative and Positive.  Optimism and Pessimism.  Learning to balance yourself, most of all….and I’m grateful for the practice.

Surely, this will come in handy when I finally get to raise my child.

Here’s a quick video my husband took at the ultrasound. ❤

 

 

 

Pregnancy after Loss(es)

Well….it ain’t for sissies, that’s for sure.  (So, yeah – I sort of butchered the late great Bette Davis’s oh so wise words about aging to fit this post…and I would apologize, but it totally works, so I’m sticking by it. :P)

I thought that experiencing infertility (and recurrent losses) would be the hardest thing I would ever have to live through.

And it was.

Until now, that is.

Being pregnant again, after having gone through all of that, is a new kind of scary that I don’t even know how to begin to describe.  Each day lasts so much longer than it did before – minutes feel like hours, and that’s because I have a very important finish line to not only make it to, but to cross.  Every day that passes, is a day closer to that end….but man, is time dragging.

It’s been over 3 years since our last loss.  All of our losses were difficult, of course – but that last one hit my husband and I hard.  We had seen a heartbeat.  We were filled with hope because the odds seemed to finally be in our favour.  When that leaves you, it’s absolutely devastating.

During the years that followed, we began to lose faith that this would happen for us.   I think that’s only natural.  We told ourselves we were still “trying”, but not TRYING trying.  If it happens, it happens, and we’ll deal with it then – but we weren’t actively working at it.   I don’t think we could bear the vulnerability that comes with admitting that you really want something, and working hard to get it (only to be let down again), so we kept our hearts safe by not really trying.

I can’t speak for my husband, but I know a big part of me did NOT want to get pregnant again, even though I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. (explain that!)  I was am terrified to go through all of this again, because I honestly don’t know if the shattered pieces of me will come together one more time if this falls apart.  I am already so patched together as it is – if I fall apart again, will that just be it for me?  Will I forever be in pieces?  Those thoughts scare me, so ontop of not really trying…I think I unconsciously began to sabotage our efforts by avoiding intimacy, picking fights, and not addressing the health concerns I have.

I know it doesn’t make sense to fight against something that you desperately want….but it also doesn’t make sense to willingly walk into what feels like a hungry den of lions wearing only a dress made of meat (a la Lady Gaga).  This was the rock and the hard place I found myself between.

The odds are, and have seemingly always been, against us.  We fit into some pretty ugly statistical boxes – too old, too fat, too many losses, no full term pregnancies, years of infertility, health issues, etc. etc……our track record for trying is 0 for 5.  If  I was a professional athlete, my team would have dropped me years ago.

When I took the pregnancy test, I wasn’t expecting to see anything.  It’s not safe to want that. It hurts too much.

When there was a second (faint) line, I convinced myself that it wasn’t actually a pregnancy test.  It was an ovulation test!  That’s why there’s a line.  I really believed it, too, and that felt like a relief….though I knew I needed to check again, just in case.

The positive test is only the beginning.

Eventually, once I realized that it was a true positive (I ran out and got two more tests, to be sure)- I instantly decided “fear be damned! I want to celebrate this!”.   I announced my pregnancy for the first time ever, to my husband.  I thought of something cute to do.  I wrote him a letter from baby, and put the two tests with the letter.  And then fear set in.

Why am I making such a big deal of this?  What if it doesn’t work.  What if I’m getting his hopes up for nothing?  I pushed the thoughts aside, and moved forward anyway.

We announced to family and friends.  My sister in law got excited, and had our niece and nephew facetime us for the “good news”!   I  instantly felt uneasy.   I couldn’t tell the kids.  I made my husband do it, while I held the ipad.  The what ifs began swirling again….and I pushed them down, because we need move forward.  We need to be positive.

We let ourselves talk about the future.  What do you think baby will look like?  Boy or Girl?  Names? …..and then just as quickly, we shut it down.  That line of conversation is too scary.  Too hopeful.  We don’t want to get carried away.

Our first ultrasound:  There’s baby on the screen – and oh look.  A heartbeat.  We were elated, thrilled, hopeful.  And then we remembered that we’ve been here before.  That tree looks familiar.

My first maternity purchase:  I had to buy some maternity pants (you know, the ones with the big stretchy elastic panel) to accommodate my ever-expanding waistline, which is a first for me.  A tab sat open on my computer for weeks, with three lonely pairs of pants sitting in an online shopping cart.  I couldn’t even think about buying them.  When my pants finally stopped fitting, and I hit “confirm” on the purchase, my loss brain piped up:  “What a waste of money – those will be a sad reminder, sitting on your shelf after you lose the baby”.    It’s like having a bully inside your head 24 hours a day.

Every trip to the bathroom (which is a lot, these days), my heart stops while I hold my breath and force myself to look at the toilet paper.  I am checking for blood.  I am waiting for it, honestly.  Every time it’s not there, I am so overcome with gratitude that I actually tear up and cast my eyes skyward for a moment to thank the universe for granting me one more day with my baby.

Every day is like this.

This is what being pregnant after a loss is like.  It tries to steal your joy.  It puts doubt into your head.  It robs that naive, blissful, completely innocent: “I’m pregnant and everything will work out” mindset from you, because unfortunately you know all too well what can go wrong.  It makes you want to separate yourself from the experience to protect yourself from the potential pain.  And it alienates you from other expectant moms – the ones who don’t understand what it’s like for you.  It leaves you feeling caught between loss and pregnancy, with one foot on each side.

It is a constant battle between wanting to be happy, and wanting to protect yourself. If you want joy (and you will want it) – you will have to fight for it. Over and over again.  And it’s exhausting.

No, being pregnant after a loss is definitely not easy….but what other choice do I have but to go forward?  Staying here isn’t an option.

 

 

 

Silver Linings

I’m a firm believer in things happening for a reason.  I also (quite naively at times) believe that if you’re a good person, good things will come to you.  These types of core beliefs can be severely called into question however, when (bad) things keep happening, and there is absolutely no reason that you can see.

That’s sort of how it is with infertility.  At least, how it is with our infertility.

I’ve heard the term “unexplained infertility” a number of times from medical professionals, in reference to myself.  I’ve had conversations with doctors and nurses who have said to me:  “I don’t see any reason why you can’t stay pregnant.”

While it’s comforting to know that we can get pregnant, of course, that fact means nothing really – seeing as how we can’t *stay* pregnant.  That’s the key here.  Staying pregnant is where it’s at.  Staying pregnant has eluded us so far.

Early on, I was *sort of* diagnosed with PCOS as a “best-guess” as to what my problem might be, if I had one.  It’s a common diagnosis, and the most common cause of infertility in women. I even had some of the symptoms.  No one has ever really confirmed it, but everyone agreed that’s probably what’s going on here….so we started treating it with Metformin (a diabetes drug).

Metformin was a nightmare for me – even the low dose I was on caused major issues with my guts.  I felt nauseous 24/7, and usually had terrible diarrhea within an hour of each dose (which was 3 times a day).   I tried taking Metformin on two separate occasions in the last 6 years….both times, the side effects made me go off them within 3-6 months.  I couldn’t handle feeling so rotten all day, and for such a long time.

Over the course of 6 years, my hormones were tested repeatedly, and were sometimes out of whack….but not always.  My most recent hormone panel about 4 months ago, showed that my levels (especially my testosterone) were pretty much”normal”.  All along, I’ve been wondering and asking about my thyroid, as well.  It’s also been tested repeatedly, and continues to come back in the normal range.

I’ve been told to try losing weight – which is standard advice for both PCOS and for thyroid issues….but this has proven to be fairly challenging for me.  My motivation is not at all what it should be, and I’m tired.  So tired.  All the time.   Infertility, multiple losses, grief, stress, and a touch of situational depression can drain a person.

I also really struggle with caring for myself, because I feel so let down by my body.  I’m angry at it.  It’s a vicious cycle, I know.  And I’m not proud of it, nor am I making excuses….I’m just explaining, I suppose.

But back to the title of this post.  Silver linings.  In even the darkest, and most painful of situations….I believe there is some light, if you’re willing to look for it.  Sometimes it’s extremely hard to see.  But it’s there.  I know it.  I’ve seen it.

One of my silver linings, are the lessons I’ve learned throughout this journey with infertility.  These lessons (I think) have made me a better person.  Or at least, a calmer person.  They are:

1. There are no guarantees in life – be grateful for everything you have, and every day you get (even the bad ones).  It’s much harder to appreciate the challenges that come your way, but if you can learn to do this, you will be much happier.  I promise.
2. Some things are totally out of your control. Peace can be found when you finally accept that and let go.  Accepting it was the hard part for me.  Letting go was easy, but can only happen when there is acceptance.
3. You don’t have to suffer in silence. If talking to people about your struggles makes them uncomfortable, find people who can handle it.  There will always be someone else who has felt what you’re feeling.  Sharing pain lessens it.
4. If you want something bad enough, don’t let fear stop you from trying for it….or from celebrating it when you actually get it. (even if you don’t know if you’ll have it forever)

With our last loss, we had seen a heartbeat on the ultrasound.  A perfect, little flickering light on a dark screen, in a dark room.  It was blurry, but that was because of the tears in my eyes.  My husband and I watched it in silence and awe for what felt like forever.

We lost the baby a week later.  That wasn’t supposed to happen.  We had made it farther than we ever had to date – the chance for miscarriage after seeing the heartbeat was less than 2%, we had been told.

But there are no guarantees.

And despite the intense pain of that loss, I will always be grateful to have experienced that – to have bonded with my little one, to have seen it’s heart beating inside me.

A little light, in the darkness.

 

I have a confession to make….

I have completely stopped making my new year’s resolution soaps each week.  😦

I have some really great excuses reasons though – so hear me out!

First, I threw my back out.  Then I got strep throat.  When the strep throat (finally) healed, I got a nasty ear-infection.  And when the ear-infection cleared up, I got pregnant.

Yup.  You read that right.  (I was surprised too)

As I mentioned briefly in my previous post, my husband and I struggle with infertility.

What you may not know (unless you know me), is that we have been trying to start a family for over 6 years; subjecting ourselves to countless medical tests and painful procedures, working with naturopaths, doctors, nurses, and specialists…and enduring immeasurable pain and heartbreak with each loss we have experienced.

I don’t really know how to begin to describe what we’ve been through.  It’s hard to talk about, for obvious reasons….but more than that – it’s still one of those “taboo” topics that people get squirmy about when you bring it up.

Speaking of squirmy  – it’s always felt weird to me that complete strangers have no issues asking others: “do you have children?”.  It’s almost always the second question I’m asked when I’m away at a work conference.

1. “What’s your name?”

2. “Do you have children?”

If I’m wearing a name tag, which I often am at work conferences, “do you have children” shoots right up to number 1.

Sometimes, simply saying no is enough to deter them.  But only sometimes.

More often, saying no to this question seems to open the conversation to further questions about how old you are, how long you’ve been with your partner, whether or not you want children, and comments like: “clock’s ticking!”  Yes, really.  I’ve even received sex tips from strangers, thinking they were being helpful (and not at all inappropriate).

Sometimes, to save myself the onslaught of other questions, I’ll say: “none living” in response to the dreaded question.  That’s a guaranteed conversation stopper, let me tell you.   People get weird when you answer like that.  It makes them uncomfortable.  You can hear crickets, and the rustle of table linens blowing in the breeze created when they couldn’t get away from your table quickly enough.

But here’s the thing…..asking me if I have children makes me uncomfortable too.  Because I can’t give you the answer you want.

Whenever I’m asked a question like that, I have to decide in an instant whether you are someone who can “handle the truth” (we have lost many babies, we are trying, and it’s difficult for us) without abandoning me in the vulnerability that comes with sharing something like this….or are you someone that I have to smile and fake it with; someone that I have to make a stupid joke about “having fun trying!” so that you feel better?  Are you someone who won’t sense my pain and discomfort when I say no, and push on, asking  me more and more questions about my situation?

In addition to trying to choose what response to give (I wish so very much that I could just say yes!)……there’s also a huge internal struggle against my desire to acknowledge that I have children who aren’t with me (because just saying no feels like a lie)…..and knowing that being honest makes people feel weird.  And I wouldn’t want people to feel weird.  I already feel weird enough for both of us, pretty much all the time.

Statistics say that 1 in 4 women experiences miscarriage.  That’s a big percentage of us.

Why then, is it so weird to talk about?  Chances are, you or someone you know has experienced this.  This needs to be ok to talk about.  So, I’m talking about it.

As I’m sure you could imagine – the thought of telling everyone that we are pregnant again, without knowing for sure that this pregnancy will result in a baby, as so many before it did not, is completely terrifying.  (We have told our families, but have not announced this publicly yet….although I suppose some may argue that this is an announcement of sorts, I feel fairly confident that not many people actually read this, LOL)

What makes this sort of thing even scarier is a commonly held belief in our society that you should NEVER announce your pregnancy in the first trimester.  (again, following that whole taboo “don’t talk about it” theme which I’m a big fan of. *sarcasm*)

While this may seem like good advice…this type of secrecy actually means that women who do miscarry  in the first trimester often don’t get the support they need, because no one knew about it.

Do you know how hard it is to go through this type of loss without support?  It’s almost impossible.  This type of loss shakes people to their core.  Most women blame themselves….some feel sure that it happened because deep down, they wouldn’t be a good mother, or that there’s something fundamentally wrong with them and this is nature’s way of weeding that out.  They struggle with thoughts of what could have been done to prevent it, and pour over every detail leading up to the loss to find the reason it happened.

I was once convinced I lost a child because I ate a pkg. of ramen noodles, which are full of sodium and msg.  It’s not rational.  It’s traumatic, and terrifying, and rips your confidence, and who you thought you were to shreds.  Not to mention what it does to your relationships.  This type of thing breaks people.

No one should have to go through something like that alone.

That all considered, we have decided that this baby, however long  they are with us, deserves to be recognized and celebrated, and loved by others as much as we already love him/her.  Should the unthinkable happen, we’ll draw on the support of those around us who know so that we don’t have to weather this storm alone.

As we pass previous milestones, and if we learn that baby is healthy, our joy will be much less cautious.   Until then….. Please keep us in your thoughts (and/or prayers if you do that sort of thing); and join us in celebration of this present moment, with lots of hope for the future.

Our Vintage Travel Wedding

I don’t mention my husband on the blog much, partially because up to now it’s just been a blog about my soapmaking, cooking, or crafting….and he doesn’t have much to do with those things (other than supporting me, and eating/using the things I make), and partially because I try to respect his privacy; this is my blog – not his, and he’s just not that into sharing.

But, because our 10th anniversary (of the day we met) just passed, I’m feeling a little sappy, and figured I’d share a little peek into our wedding.

Also:  Here’s a teaser video from the day!

My husband and I got married on August 31, 2013.  We had already been together almost 7 years at that point.  I’m not sure what shifted, but after a long time together, he decided that it was finally time (I took a little convincing – he had to ask me a grand total of 3 times before I said yes!) to “make it official”.   I am so glad he did.  Throughout our relationship, I’ve always felt extremely lucky, because we really are best friends.  I know that sounds cliche, and I gagged a little writing that, but for us it’s true.  He is my favourite person (most days), and I think our personalities work well together.

We have hard days of course (in addition to “normal” difficulties all couples face, we also struggle with infertility – I’ll write about that more another time), but the love between us is very strong.  He is my family.  My friend.  And my love. ❤

This might surprise some, but the “traditional” (big white dress, hotel reception, 150+ guests) wedding was not our first choice, at all.

We originally planned on a destination wedding in Cuba, and had booked the dates, bought the decorations, had invitations sent out, paid deposits, etc. (Our invitations were amazing, and are pictured below.  They  were designed by our good friend Christine at Designs That Fly)

I had even visited the hotel (Melia/Tryp Peninsula, Varadero) that we were going to get married at in Cuba, to meet with the event coordinator before our wedding, and to tour the grounds and get information about options for the decor, ceremony, photography, etc. (it was a beautiful hotel – I’ll see if I can find some photos I took while I was there)

…………..and then the travel company (Transat) backed out on us.  For whatever reason, they decided that they would cancel flights for over half of our guests. I think at one point, we had close to 75 confirmed travelers. I was devastated. We lost a bunch of money, and my heart seriously broke.  I actually joined twitter just so I could tell Transat how I felt.  (I haven’t posted anything from that account since, ha ha)  They didn’t even respond.

All of a sudden, we were back at square one.  Months of work and research (and money) were wasted, and I lost the motivation to keep planning for a while.  My husband helped me through, by suggesting we renew our vows in Cuba on a future milestone anniversary, so I could still one day have the dream wedding I’d always wanted.  Have I mentioned I love him?  🙂

Knowing I’d eventually get the wedding I always wanted, I decided to plan my backup wedding a little closer to home, at the NorWester Hotel in Thunder Bay Ontario.

Our lovely and talented friend Christine made our second invitations too.  She did an amazing job, and we ended up loving our second set of invites even more than the first ones! (the top is the outside, bottom is the inside – they have 4 folds  sort of like a brochure, which is probably a bit hard to visualize, but they ended up being square)

We decided on a travel theme, because we love to travel and had wanted to travel for the first wedding.  I got my husband some cuff links made from vintage Cuban coins as a wedding gift, to pay homage to the wedding we originally planned, and to bring a little bit of the country we both love so much into our special day.

Our centerpieces were fresh flowers in vintage-looking paper suitcases (spray-painted gray), and instead of table numbers we made postcards of countries we’d like to visit.

Our guests received tickets (made by us) upon entering the reception, which listed the country on the postcards at their tables. On the back of each ticket, we asked for marriage advice, and had a vintage postal box to collect the responses. We got some HILARIOUS (and inappropriate) tips that we still laugh at today.

Our guest book was inspired by the movie “UP” by Disney/Pixar.  Even though it’s a children’s movie, we related to the couple because they also struggled with loss and infertility.  They had an adventure book, and so did we!

Our cake was made by a woman in Thunder Bay (I can’t find her on Facebook anymore, so I’m guessing she no longer does this).  I just wanted something simple, because I was more concerned that it be tasty, than fancy. We put the cake on some vintage suitcases that we spray-painted gray to match our colours, and put some cool old travel stickers on them.

We also had five different kinds of cupcakes which were all amazingly delicious (I had a bite of all of them around 2 in the morning, lol).  We had 2 gluten-free options: Chocolate and Vanilla, and 3 “normal” varieties:  Chocolate-Espresso, French Vanilla, and Butter-Pecan.  We made heart toppers for the cupcakes out of maps, to incorporate the travel theme.

We also made menus with a map theme and a vintage hot air balloon graphic inspired by our invitations, to put at each place setting.  For favours, we made seed packets (full of mint seeds) with a recipe for an authentic Cuban Mojito (I learned how to make these on a trip to Havana) on each one.

It’s amazing how many fun little DIY touches we had.

We also had a photo booth, which our guests absolutely loved….and the photo printouts had the logo we had created which was inspired by our invitations.

 

One of my favourite things about the wedding, was that we had our own little table.  I planned it so that our wedding party and their guests would be seated at two large tables, with us at a private table behind.  I was never a fan of the long head table, and I was stoked that I was able to do this instead.  I had Glamour & Glow Events put it all together for me.

I think that’s all I have for photos that showed the details….the rest are just “normal” wedding photos from the best. day. ever.   🙂

I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip down memory lane with me.  I know I have.

Soap Sunday – Oatmeal, Goats Milk & Honey (Cold Process)

When you make soap from scratch, some ingredients are harder to work with than others. Milk (of any kind) can be one of those ingredients.

The benefits of having milk in your soap definitely outweigh the temperamental qualities it has, though….and here are just some:

• The PH level of (most) milk is really close to our skin’s natural PH levels, making milk soaps super gentle and nourishing
• Milk has naturally occurring lactic acid, which helps with gentle exfoliation of dead, dry skin cells
• The fats in milk (especially goats milk) are also luxuriously moisturizing for the skin

Of all the things that can happen when you use milk in your soap batter, overheating (because of the natural sugars) is probably the most common, and annoying.

When soap overheats….it ain’t pretty.  It can crack the top of your soap (mildly annoying), or even sometimes completely erupt into what so many people in the soap making world call a “soap volcano”.

Even if you don’t have a volcano, scorched/burnt milk can happen if your soap overheats.  The smell of scorched milk in your soap has been described as an ammonia-like smell, and your soap will get very dark in colour.  It’s still useable, but not as pretty or nice smelling.

A lot of soapers will take steps to reduce the chance of this happening, by using milk that has been frozen into ice cubes, and adding their lye to that.  I just added powdered goats milk to my soap batter after I already mixed the lye and water. (Using fresh milk is much harder-you need to be more careful)

Because I’m loving the movie-making app on my phone, I made another little video of the process. If you don’t already make soap, this won’t really teach you how to do it…..but will give you a behind-the-scenes look at how it was made.

Enjoy!

Soap Sunday – Lavender Lemon (video)

 I keep getting later and later with my posts. (Oops!) It’s still not a habit for me to write blog posts regularly, but I’ll try to do better. 

This week’s soap is Lavender-Lemon. It smells amazing, and has lemon yellow soap curls embedded in a clear purple olive oil base. I’m really liking the way it looks, and am already thinking of new colour/scent combos to try!

For fun, I made a video of (most of) the steps involved in making it for all of you who are curious. The steps I left out aren’t because they’re secret….its just because I’m forgetful. 😉

Enjoy! 

Soap Sunday – Bubble Gum + Trucks!

Wow, I’ve been slacking lately.  Not only is it actually Monday when I’m posting this…but I also realized I forgot to post my soap for last Sunday too!

Regardless of my lackadaisical blog posting style, I think this is the longest I’ve kept a new year’s resolution going.  Probably because it’s fun.  I mean, honestly – how fun are: “call your mother more”, “lose XX lbs by June”, or “stop picking your nose in traffic”. (I threw that last one in just to see if you’re reading…I don’t do that.  *shifty face*)

I think that’s the key to long-lasting resolutions.  Make them fun.  I’m already dreaming up ideas for next week’s soap!! (I see a lavender/lemon bar in my future)

Here are weeks six & seven of my “make a new soap each week for an entire year” resolution.  I hope you like them.  As always, you can buy through my group on Facebook, or if you’re local, the Cloverbelt Local Food Co-op.

First up:  Vintage Pickup Trucks

And this week’s new soap:  “Bubble Gum”!  I love how this one came out….

Tasty Tuesday (ok, Thursday) – Lasagna Soup

Here in Canada, winter can last FOREVER. Case in point, I’m pretty sure my local(ish) groundhog “conveniently” died before she could predict how much longer winter would last because she knew the answer, and just couldn’t bear to tell us.

Anyway – at my workplace, we have come up with a way to beat the winter blues.  We call it the “weekly winter warm-up”. (someone loves alliteration.  ok, yeah -that was me)

Each week one member of the group cooks a hot lunch for all the participants.  We all eat together, and not only is it awesome to have a homemade hot lunch once a week, it’s also really nice to have some down-time with my coworkers.

I find that sharing a meal can really boost morale, and increase bonds. Others must feel the same, because we have a really good turn out every week.  The best part:  you only have to cook once, but you get to enjoy a LOT of meals all through the winter. 🙂

It’s my turn to cook tomorrow, and I’ve been drooling over this recipe I found on Pinterest, so I decided to adapt it to make it my own.

It’s seriously delicious.  And easy too.

Here’s what you need (serves at least 10, so cut back if you need to):

• 2 tsp. olive oil
• 1/2 lb Italian sausage (use hot if you like that)
• 1 lb lean ground beef
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 4 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 tsp. dried oregano
• 1 tsp. dried basil leaves
• 1 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
• 1/2 tsp. dried chili pepper flakes
• 1 small can of tomato paste
• 2  28-oz. cans of diced tomatoes
• 2 bay leaves
• 10 cups chicken stock
• 1 1/2 cups fresh spinach, chopped
• Box of fusilli or farfalle (little bows) pasta

Topping

• 8 oz. container of ricotta or cottage cheese
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, finely chopped
• salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

Heat olive oil in a deep enough pot for your soup – at medium heat. Add onions, sausage, and ground beef – making sure to break up the sausage a bit (I remove the skins to make this easier – or just use ground sausage meat), cooking until meat is browned. Drain the grease if there is a lot.  There was for me.

Add garlic, oregano, basil and your pepper flakes, cooking for another few minutes.  Add tomato paste and stir that into your meat mixture.  Cook a few minutes, stirring.

Pour diced tomatoes (and all of the liquid), the bay leaves, and the chicken stock into your pot. Stir together, and bring just to a boil.  Throw in your chopped spinach if you’re using that.  I thought it needed some green, so I did.  Reduce heat, cover your pot and simmer for 30 (or more) minutes.

I chose to cook my noodles separately, in another pot.  If cooked right in your soup, you run the risk of having mushy overcooked noodles – especially if there are any leftovers.

Cook noodles according to package directions, until al dente.

When the soup is ready, remove the bay leaves.  Add the noodles to each bowl before ladling the soup over them. Top with a dollop of ricotta or cottage cheese, a sprinkling of parmesan, and some fresh basil.

Season to taste with salt and pepper, and proceed to eat every last bite/drop.