Bath Bombs

(plus some philosophy on one's life calling and how dense humans are as a group)

These bath bombs look like confections. I'm very happy with them. So pretty and they smell wonderful too! I have finally listed them in my Etsy shop:

Here are Lisa and Lisa shaping the mixture into balls. You have to work quickly or the substance starts to get crusty and hard.

This is how they look when they are done well- meaning that you didn't get the baking soda compound too wet or too dry before forming the balls. On our first try we didn't get it wet enough and even though we could form balls with it, they spread out and the exterior cracked so that right now they look like cracked meringues. They will still fizz in the bath, they just don't look as nice.

This one is grapefruit-ginger. It smells really good and refreshing. It has more grapefruit oil in it than ginger so it is predominately citrusy but with a warm spicy finish.

It becomes obvious that we favor citrus around here. Bergamot is the main flavoring ingredient in Earl Grey tea and I never would have thought of it as being in the citrus family, yet it is. It smells sprightly and fresh and mixed with a small amount of rose it is heavenly! More romantic and sensual than the grapefruit-ginger, but not heavy and cloying at all.

The bergamot-rose is perfect for helping to alleviate depression (but don't stop taking your medications, OK?, because it isn't strong enough to do what your meds do) it is cheering and soothing and how can you go wrong combining it in a bath? Unless your bath sucks like mine. In which case we need to make a pact together to get better bath tubs. In all the years I didn't get therapy or take medication to help with my brain issues I managed to get through life with a heavy regimen of cognitive behavioral therapy (which I thought were pep talks to self, but I found out in therapy that I'd been self administering CBV all along...very cool) and a lot of bath taking.

I took baths at least every other night. Baths with a glass of wine or a cup of tea, a book, and (of course) some essential oils dropped in or some kind of bath salts or herbs. I'm not kidding when I say that taking baths, the kind where you read a book or magazine in, are really good for your mental health.

I was lucky enough to have had lots of wonderful bathtubs in San Francisco. Claw foots that were meant for soaking in. With the backs curved just right and deep enough to fill with hot water. Bathing has been an important ritual for people even when getting clean wasn't.

I've finished putting together the bath salt kits as well but have yet to photograph them or get them up on my Etsy shop. We stayed up very late working on them the night before last. I know that many of you who come here have done lots of work putting products together, and many of you have put together tutorials and patterns for crafts of various kinds, so you will appreciate how much work goes into them! I hope the salt kits sell because I really love them.

Did you hear that? That is not the talk of a good businesswoman. I've been thinking about this lately and even though I've mentioned it before I think it becomes ever clearer to me as I go along my mostly-merry way: I am a lousy businesswoman. It is fascinating to me to be finding out things about myself that I never expected. I mean, finding out I was crazy wasn't really like finding anything out-more like corroborating evidence. But finding out that I suck at spacial arrangements is a revelation. I really assumed all my life that I was pretty good at it because I have such a very distinct style (which I feel good about) and I have an eye for beautiful things. But that is not the same as being able to arrange things in a room in a way that is both functional and pretty.

I kind of knew all my life that I wasn't cut out for a life of business, but I see it now in a new and brighter light. I'm not trying to put myself down here, just looking at the facts and hearing my own words come endlessly tumbling back at me as though someone else said them and hearing how strongly I don't identify with sales and business.

whoa-random thought just in: I couldn't sell hotcakes for the Devil to save my life.

That just totally cracks me up. Where do these thoughts originate from? What weird vortex in my brain sits around formulating these thoughts?

It's funny how life will continually send you clear messages and how easy it is for us dense humans to continually ignore the writing on the wall, in the sky, on the counter tops, in the fire, and on our own foreheads. What would my life have been like if I had, early on, committed myself to a life of writing which I knew at ten years of age was what I was meant to do? What if I had stuck to the obvious screaming purpose? I'm not one to sit around all the time asking "what if" or "if I could only redo my life...". I mean, we make the choices we make and a lot of times going off the track means we enrich ourselves with adventure (or misadventure as the case often is) which can only help to deepen our wisdom.

(Or the gashes on our foreheads where we've been banging it against the brick wall of our own decisions.)

I wouldn't change anything I've done. Well, except for one thing. But we're not going to talk about that at the moment. I just can't help but see that I have continually gone off course and then asked the Universe "Why didn't that work out?!!!". I wonder how long I'll retain this little bit of clarity before I find myself off the track again? As I was making all these wonderful bath products in the last couple of weeks I started romancing the possibilities there...which is what I always do. "I could build a soapy empire!" or "I've always wanted to be an apothecary...it's like my true calling!"

How is it that a person can have a strongly entrepreneurial spirit but not the business acumen to carry out any of their brilliant ideas? It's like being born with the spirit of a ballerina but the body of Polish grandmother. I should be used to finding new contradictions in myself, lord knows it's one of those things I've always been well equipped with. What's one more?

I'm not sorry about it. Just like getting my psychological assessment didn't disturb me, it's comforting to acknowledge my own limitations. I've always been happiest when working within known boundaries. The trick is to always have this in mind as I go on my little adventures. I need to remember that I can do anything I want, so long as I remember that it's my job in this small life to report what I find, share what I see, and record the adventure. That is my calling.

I am very good at product development as I love to research things that interest me. I am creative enough to be good at visualizing how a product can look good. I am skilled enough to design things that are quality, that are purposeful, and that are stylish. But it isn't my calling to make a business out of that. Where's the company who wants to hire me for that? Has anyone ever come knocking for these skills of mine? No.

Besides, what I want most, is to stay home, continue to be an urban homesteader and to inspire others to do the same.

Ultimately, there's only ever been one calling for me and it's been written on the wall in my own blood for twenty seven years. I'm very excited about all these bath products, but mostly I can't wait to get you to make some of your own. I have the words. The words to tell you that you can do it. The words to tell you why you want to.



Note: it must be said that if my current endeavors can help keep me at home (writing and homesteading), then I hope that my previous life as T.H.M.R.* is on hold for a while. I'm not holding my breath, but who knows?

*The Human Money Repellent. (I suspect this is the affliction that has ailed most writers, with special preference for poets.)