Anyway, after one particular time of soaking the middle sprayer wand in bleach and beating it against our back sink….I decided to leave all the pieces of slime that came out for my husband to see. He wasn’t really impressed, but he had an idea. He would take the middle sprayer wand outside and blow it out with his air compressor. My thought was literally “have at it and have fun.” Needless to say- after he took it to the garage and did his thing, he came back into the house. (insert a huge snicker right here). This is just a regular sized sprayer wand, that had already been soaked and beaten to the best of my ability. However, his hat, his shirt, his pants were all covered with tiny black slime pieces. (and so was the garage floor, lol). He was all upset after that, and decided he could drag his air hose into the house and blow out a few more portals in the dishwasher to really get it clean. Nothing too bad happened til he pulled out the top shelf, all the way out (now previous experience with the middle sprayer should have kicked in and said “do not pull it all the way out due to flying chunks of slime,” but no…..) and he proceeded to blow air into the very first bottle sprayer. (Now, these have been “plugged” for a while cause it’s a process to unhook everything to get them off…) Just imagine a bunch of “stuff aka slime pieces” shooting five feet straight into the air out of four bottle sprayers. I literally ran for cover. It was all over the kitchen floor and the counters and the lights. All I said was “I am NOT cleaning this up!” (He did scrub the floor later that day.)

However, men don’t seem to know when a good idea is no longer…a good idea. Being fall we had a cricket get into our house and hid from James under the rail of the patio door. That thing was annoying. The only time it shut up was when it happened to thunder outside. Day and night it’s chirping could be heard. James was pleased to tell me he had finally gotten the cricket to come out. (I really didn’t want to know how, but he was so proud of himself. ) He blew the cricket and it’s unknown buddy out of the rails by using the air hose and air compressor once again. I think they only made it three feet into the air. But he was proud as punch. I however, said, “you just blew out all the dust, dirt, crap, and dog hair, and dead bugs that had accumulated under there since we moved here, correct?” He told me that was correct. Then added that is why he had to vacuum and scrub the floor a second time.

If that’s what it takes for me to get out of floor duty…..hmm…I might have to think about this some more..

9/27/21

The post What an air hose and compressor can do… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

 There are parents that make time to play with their children a priority. I envy these parents in that they can make it seem so easy.  Sometimes, we (I’m categorizing all us parents so no one feels left out, lol.) get so wrapped up in what we are doing daily we forget the real important things…and people in our lives. With most children, its about quality time, not quantity. Where they are satisfied with a parents undivided attention for 10-15 minutes, and they are then content to go do their own thing for a while. (I see this with Trey when I almost kick his butt at Yugioh, he has to go rearrange the decks again – usually removing the good cards in my deck and putting them in his!!) As a parent, it is sometimes hard to just stop what we are doing and give them those precious ten minutes that are going to throw our whole schedule off. (If you are agreeing with me now, you are missing my point. That was sarcasm.) Ten minutes. People waste ten minutes waiting in line, debating if it’s take-out night or beanies and wienies for supper, or on their phones (have you ever really looked at how much time is wasted on social media, You tube and all that jazz?)

Pause. There is nothing wrong with those things. I am on You tube a lot, I will admit, watching other soaper’s videos, looking up herbal remedies, and learning how to pull my dishwasher apart. It’s amazing how helpful these “resources” can be. (That’s Dalton’s word when he’s doing homework and using the internet….using his resources. But wow, can he complain when he has to write a research paper!) These web resources are like one big community brain storm. However, if you think you have to post your daily life on social media or you will miss out on life….get help now. If parents gave their child/children the same amount of attention as was spent on their phone I believe our children would be a little more…..happy? (such a simple word with a wealth of meaning…) Can you imagine having an actual relationship with your child? A connection that nothing can sever?

Back to the play time. This is not meant to badger or judge anyone. I am so guilty of this myself. Close to 27 years of guilt that should just be let go. Next day, clean cup, move down. In short, a new day, a new start, a new habit can be born. It’s never too late. Even if your child is 27 years old! (Speaking of my girls – we have always talked about doing a formal-dress up tea party. For years. Really need to schedule that!) I’ve talked about our snow sledding days. I love sledding, and taking kids outside to pull them around on a sled, push them on a swing, or watch them play at a park. However, ……don’t you ever miss your own childhood? How about climbing a tree with them? (not the best example and not for everyone. Makes me think of The Sound of Music when all the kids are hanging from the trees!) Anyone miss playing cars in the dirt? Barbies? Having a teddy bear picnic? Blowing bubbles? Building sand castles? Fly a kite? (It sure has been windy enough here!) Setting up the My Little Pony stable beside the Master’s of the Universe castle? (It’s not the getting down on the ground that is hard- it’s the getting back up! LOL) Cards and boardgames are fun too. Let your child give you ideas.

I also feel this is easier to do when the children are younger. Teenagers act like parents have the plague- unless they want something. Lol.  Trey is my youngest and depending on what he is into that day or week-that is what I am asked to play. Pokemon and Yugioh card games I suffer through. (and nobody else in the house will learn how to play) However, the boys bought these off road motorcycles (that’s what they call them…..it’s like calling a Prius a mini SUV.) Trey loves being part of the group. He does not like driving around by himself. So, the other night after listening to him begging Dillon into going back out driving one more time (it was almost dark outside), I told Trey I’d drive with him but just for a little bit.  So, borrowing Dillon’s bike, Trey showed me all the important things (how to start it, how to make it go, most importantly where the brake is!) and we headed out. It’s a quarter of a mile from our house to the mail box. In that time Trey lectured about how I’m supposed to ride on the opposite side of the road than he was driving. I argued that since I was behind him it didn’t matter! Then Trey kept looking behind to see where I was (as if I couldn’t keep up with him! The nerve of that kid! Lol). I decided to pass him at the corner and headed on the path beside the cattle pens. I’d rather go up that hill than down it. Trey and I made one more loop. This time I was asked at every opportunity if I was having fun, and did I think it was fun? Two loops and it was almost full dark and I was frozen. However, right before I parked it, I decided….we as parents need way more play time with our kids !!!

The post Parental Play Time appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

By the time our second child was born I was working construction with my dad and brother where many jobs were out of town. This entailed stopping at “Amoco” for a cup of coffee before the trip home. Being the cheapest drink on the menu, at under $.99 for unlimited cups, made coffee even more enticing. Most weekends were spent at the farm, and I’d drink a cup between intense games of cards with Grandma Helen.

A lot can happen in six years, and between child 2 and 3 a daily coffee drinker I became. Remodeling an old farm house and moving there after the birth of our third child found a coffee pot a necessary commodity.  Calving = coffee on our farm.  Driving to town daily that first year to take the girls to school usually entailed a stop at Perkins for coffee with my dad and Gr. Helen- if she needed to come to town. (I will never forget when Dalton was a baby and chomped down on a coffee creamer and shot a stream of it across the isle and into the booth beside us. Who knew there was that much creamer in that little container!! Thankfully, the lady sitting there was not in that seat!)

My 4-cup coffee pot at day care ran a couple times a day.  On our farm, the barn had a coffee pot and eventually so did the feed lot office. We graduated to a BUNN coffee pot for the house. (I really think we got it from my brother, Paul, for Christmas, but I could be wrong!) No matter where it came from it was worth every penny. No appliance worked harder. Every morning, James would roll out of bed- fill his coffee cup (in the house) then mosey out to the barn for the daily BS session with the guys before starting the day.

Life happened and we ended up moving to town (after the addition of two more boys) which once again led to daily coffee sessions with my dad. Dillon loved going for “coffee” which meant chocolate milk for him and whatever he could con Papa and the waitress out of that day. However, it didn’t last long and we moved out of town.

As kids the girls weren’t big coffee drinkers. Sabrina still is not. Jade is her daddy’s daughter. Coffee! Coffee! Coffee! Dalton has been an avid drinker since he was about 3. Seriously. He’d help himself to his usual cup of sugar and creamer topped off with a little coffee in the house, in the barn, or at the Lefor KC suppers. In kindergarten, we had to fill out a questioner for his teacher so she’d know more about him.  Not knowing what to say, but trying to keep it positive (saying he knew how to put cows in a head gate during calving and could drive a combine did not seem like good choices) we wrote “he makes a mean cup of coffee!” I don’t think his teacher was really impressed.

By this time, it was not a cup per day but more like how many pots per day. When my doctor asked me if I drank a lot of coffee my response was, “what do you consider to be a lot of coffee?” (haha)

The coffee pot does get a slight break on weekdays, but I’m sure it groans when the weekends come around. We are on our 3^rd Bunn.  We upgraded our last to a stainless steel carafe instead of the glass pot due to the kids kept breaking the pour spout off!  The typical phrase you will hear at our house on the weekend is “why is the coffee always gone?” paraphrased from “why is the rum always gone?” on Pirates of the Caribbean. We are a movie quoting family due to all the years we had no tv, just movies.

There have been times when Dalton is making a new pot of coffee at 10pm – cause he wants a cup before he goes to bed. Yup. Coffee 24/7. (almost)

Dillon and Trey have been known to have a cup here and there. Trey drinks it just like Dalton used to – ½ cup creamer and ½ a cup coffee. This drives the other kids batty (even Dalton) but when they buy the creamer then they can complain.

Side note: James has a big silver Yeti cup he fills every morning with coffee before leaving for work. The other day he was seen walking out of the house with the coffee pot instead of his cup! Same color, both have handles, both smelled of coffee, easy mistake, I guess.

Most of our family and friends know they can stop in and snag a cup; whether hunting, shoeing our horses, visiting our dad, or just need a hot shot before heading home. In short, my coffee pot is always on. (Unless I’m out to coffee with my mom lol). Stop on in and have a cup….and take a bar of soap with you!   

The post Coffee Anyone? appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

My hubby is pretty useless in the puking department. He is what I call a copycat puker. As in if someone else has puked nearby, or he hears someone puking. He starts to gag and proceed to puke if he remains in the vicinity. (Haha. Like in the movie, The Replacements.) However, it is the fastest known way to get him out of bed at any time of the night. Jade and Sabrina, our two girls, always said if they could get an alarm for him with the sound of someone puking, he would be up instantly and never sleep through his alarm. Now days I’m sure we could find him one for his phone! (The second best way to get him out of bed was a prank the girls pulled on him years ago. They ran screaming into his room “Dad! The cows are out!” Which had him flying out of bed and sprinting to the kitchen window to see how bad the situation was…haha… and then the girls said, “the cows are outside!” This worked on their cousins, too!)

Off track I am. Lol. The dog’s messes are not my problem unless I am the only one home with Maggie. I’ve spent almost the last three decades….(that can’t possibly be right) cleaning up puke of all kinds.

Baby puke. That is probably the easiest kind, except for if the baby is formula fed. Ugh. It smells like regurgitated milk replacer for calves!

Toddler puke. This is the kind where the child doesn’t know what’s happening or where it’s coming from, and  you can’t tell who is more shocked, the child or the parents! Dalton had so many food allergies as a toddler. He would puke while eating lunch at daycare (eggs took us a little bit to figure out) and eventually it didn’t even phase the daycare kids. They’d say “Tonya! Dalton puked again!” and keep right on eating! It didn’t seem to bother him either!

Night time puking. Where the child sits up and either pukes all over their blankets (by far the easiest to clean up than the next…) or where they just lean over the edge of the bed and proceed to puke all over the carpet. Ugh. Just ugh. Out of 5 kids, Dillon was really good at doing this. If I saw one of them look a little green, say their stomach hurt, or seemed “gaggy” (is that even a word?), I’d give them an ice cream bucket and tell them to keep it close for a while. The kids never took it with them if they were the one sleeping on the top bunk. Why, I don’t know. Fear of falling down the ladder while trying to get down fast enough, should give the bucket a gold star of approval for usage! Idk Luckily, (knock on wood), no one has puked off the top bunk. Now that would be a story all on it’s own! (Can you imagine the mess that would make? Like a six foot splat!)

Continuing on, how about the stop and start while running puking? It’s the kid that’s running to the bathroom, but stops to puke every so many feet (this definitely was Trey when he was little). I’m glad I don’t have excessively pukey kids! Lol. 

My favorite (looking back at it the incident I can finally laugh), the child (not my child, but at my house) was actually in the bathroom and puked all over the bathroom rug, in the sink, in the tub, on the wall, and all over the toilet. I kid you not! The child went back to bed without saying anything! I wish I had known about it before my daughter got up to get ready for work. Let’s just say- Jade was NOT happy! I was not happy either.

I really hope none of you are eating while reading this. If so, I apologize. (I tend to read while eating because that’s when I fit it in!) I am enjoying my morning coffee, finally, while writing. My husband would find this topic appalling while eating. However, he will talk about prolapsed cows, abscesses on cattle and how he drained it and what the drainage looked like, or banded bulls that “what was to fall off didn’t” and got infected. Made anyone within 500 feet of the feedlot building turn green and save their business for another day! (That still makes my stomach roll just remembering the incident.) All this and more to discuss while eating, but can not talk about puking! Lol I’m not sure how I was able to clean the puke up every time and not get sick myself. Oh, I know. Cause I HAD to. Cause there was no one else that was going to do it for me. (I think James had to do it once in all these years because I was not home at the time.) So, kudos to all you parents out there that are the “puke cleaner uppers” for their

The post Puking?….yup, puking! appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

Back to the stay-at-home mom bit. I have not had a whole lot of trackable jobs in the last 10 years. (Most business applications require 10 years of employment history.  One application I filled out wanted all jobs and every single month between jobs accounted for. Ugh.) However, not running out of toilet paper, toothpaste, laundry soap, and bread should give me an advantage over a college graduate. What can they do? Watch a zoom class meeting while scrolling through Facebook? (yes, I have seen this with my own eyes.) That is nothing. Most mom’s (stay-at-home, and those working outside the home) have a minimum of five things going on at any given time. Mental and physical.

Back to my resumé, how do I list people that I am not related to but yet know my work history? Removing relatives takes out about 95% of the people I know. I don’t have a lot of non-related friends that have worked with me. Therefore, who am I supposed to list??

Looking back 10 years I had one job to list, maybe 1 job work reference, and then volunteer work. Wait, what? Volunteer is what I do every day! No pay for stay-at-home moms. No pay for opening gates, hauling bulls, working cows, shopping, cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring, and accounting. Ugh. Farm accounts. They have to be the worst.  Probably because I need to look through vehicles, tractors, and piles of papers in drawers to find receipts for the year.

I doddle. Basically, I need to look good enough on paper to receive a call for an interview. Then if that happens, I have a panic attack realizing I have nothing to wear to this interview. Oh, Lord! Looking through my closet I realize I’ve developed my current sense of style from nursing babies, carrying toddlers, chasing after school kids, cows, bulls, and rodeo. Let’s not even talk about shoes!!!!!

Let’s be honest. The reason a college graduate has the advantage here is because they have spent the last few years BS-ing their way through all the papers required by the college classes they took. They can then BS their way through a job application and check the little box that says “do you have a college degree…Yes…No…”  Hold the phone! I am not knocking a degree. I have two girls with degrees, and one boy working towards one, and two that are smart enough – just not yet old enough.

Anyway, to end this- I did not even get a call to do an interview. In some ways it made me feel a little rejected and not good enough. However, in the real scheme of things. Maybe I’m not meant to take that road. Also, how the heck would I fit a 40 hour week job into my already busy life? I can barely find time to take a bubble bath!!!

11-2020

The post Resume… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

 Dalton always has something to say about everything on the farm. He also has to check on all those “everythings” every chance he gets. Since we have a new colt (born just this week) we had to go see it, pet it, and try to feed it.  After we exhausted that area, he decided his calves were missing him.  Petting the calves and feeding them hay didn’t last long. Dalton then decided he was going to ride them. However, since Uncle Paul and Daddy were both gone for the day, I told Dalton the only way he was going to get to ride a calf was to rope it and get on it himself. I figured I was safe. (I should have known better.)

After letting the calves all out of their pen, and running them around a bit, Dalton finally roped the black one. Perfect. (I didn’t have to help lol.) He even had it by the fence so he could crawl up the gate and get on the calf.  As Dalton started up the fence, the black got smart and started bucking a bit causing the rope to slide down it’s back and off- except for one leg. (Guess who had to get the rope off?) Then Dalton decided the little holstein would be easier to rope. He quickly got the rope around the calf’s neck and had the calf almost choked down in minutes. I told him he could NOT do that because he was going to kill it! I reminded Dalton that he had to get the rope around the calf’s belly.

After less than 30 seconds of thought he undid the rope. Talking to the black calf (Dalton’s way of diverting the calf’s attention,) he tossed one end of the rope over its back, scooped up the end and had it tied around the calf’s belly. Dalton was on maybe 8 full seconds with two circles of bucking before the calf got smart, stopped, and wouldn’t move. Dalton crawled off exclaiming, “he’s done! Let’s go rope the horse”, meaning the baby one. I told him he could not.  “Then get the white one!” he argued. (Buck is actually a buckskin).“No way! You wait for Dad!” I told Dalton as I led him back to the house.

And there was no way I was going to tell him to go rope it himself!

Edited 2-19-21

The post On a farm, far, far away… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

You have designated coats, hats, and shoes for “chores” and “town”…

You have 4 legged critters showing up at all hours of the day…

Your new alarm clock entails the jake breaks on a semi….

You are “asked” (a.k.a. – told) to open gates and always when you’re in the middle of something important. (my husband has impeccable timing)…

You may have a baby calf in the tub, or in the garage, or in the back seat of a vehicle (why leather seats are essential to all farmers …lol)…

Your back sink looks like a cross between a pharmacy and a surgical unit..

You lose a shelf in the fridge to cattle drugs…

You are “on-call” 24/7 for possible escape critters- rounding up bucking bulls in the dark should be on that show, Dangerous Jobs!!!

You have delivered coffee, meals, snacks, and Bluetooth speakers to a field usually during spring, summer, and fall..

You have written bigger checks for “feed” than for “food”…

You can drive a stock trailer through town, (this does not mean you can back it up…haha)…

You’ve chased critters cross country more than once, and without a gun…

You know how to use a hotshot, load an ear tagger, administer vaccines to cattle, and know what the chain is used for during calving…

You know that when branding cattle and pouring on wormer at the same time results in a mandatory fire extinguisher near-by… ( no cattle were harmed, just some singed hair!)…

You have used Corona medicated ointment on your baby’s diaper rash…

You know that your husband has used corona on himself…tmi???……It was called corona YEARS before covid-19 came around…

The words “this is how it’s going to work” make you roll your eyes and prepare for the worst…

You have had multiple instances of lack of communication, usually over the number of head being purchased and brought home – (this is never an accident it’s always on purpose!!)…

Powdered milk and protein shakes will forever smell like milk replacer for baby calves..

You have no days off ….

You’ve been ask to come to the hay field to help look for a bolt……(needle/haystack vs. bolt/hayfield)..I seriously do not make this stuff up!!

You’ve learned NOT to volunteer and learn how to drive the tractor.

No raises, no promotions, no retirement in sight.

You may no longer need a baby sitter for the kids, but always looking for a someone for the horses, cows, bulls, and dogs…

If you are working and not getting paid….you might be a farm wife!

(I know there are many, many more ways….you might be a farm wife!)

 2-12-2021

The post You might be a farm wife if… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

I’d change the oil on time. Put new wipers and a new wiper motor on the back window. Put a new bulb in on the main headlights so I could see at night without having to put my brights on all the time. Fix the passenger side mirror that doesn’t move in or out like it’s supposed to do . Repair the switch on the back door so I could open it without using the key fob, and also so I could open it when it won’t open at all with said key fob at 0 degrees Fahrenheit.

I’d also fix both back passenger doors that don’t lock nor unlock unless it is around 0 degrees Fahrenheit. (A person just cannot understand how fundamentally annoying it is to either roll the window down on that side when someone needs in– or crawl across the seats to unlock the door. My arms are too short to just reach back and unlock it. However, this week they are working great. -15 will do that!) I’d fix the back seat warmer that no longer works. Then the sensors on the back bumper so that the back up parking assist would work. (you know it beeps at you if you are too close to a car, or the curb, or a tree planted right by the curb.) I’d fix all the rock chips as well.

I’d fix the dent in the front bumper from when we were moving cows home, (no, I didn’t hit a cow!) Also, the ding on the hood where Bomber (our bucking bull) tried to show me who was boss as we ran his butt out of the pasture. Obviously, I won.  I’d fix the grill that cracks every time I hit a pheasant. And install new headlight covers – or get that fancy cleaner to clean them. They are so cloudy. (Don’t forget the light bulb from above.) I’d replace the side cover on the back seat that won’t stay on and the hitch cover that needs new clips.  I’d solder on the little springy thingy hanging on the back window – probably runs the back window defrost. Also, figure out why my air ride system makes it feel like I’m driving a tank over a rock pile?!?

In reality, I’d need to be an auto mechanic AND a body shop repair person.

 I think I’d leave the sunroof alone. It works perfectly.

The post If I was a mechanic… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

Wait, wait, wait. Do not try this at home or in anyone else’s fields. Our property. Our bale. No buildings, equipment, other people, or animals around except us. Also, the field sloped into a valley like setting with a larger hill on the other side to prevent the bale from going anywhere. It would have to be launched out of a cannon to make it up that hill, and then some. 

We did some strategic planning before we decided to do it. Of course, we did it! Sadly, the bale did not get the same momentum as the one that got kicked out of the baler, rolled down the hill, and jumped a fence. Literally. I wish I had a video of that. I don’t think James ever noticed one of his bales was missing until we showed him the video. One excuse we cooked up (in case he was really upset) was that if we pushed them all into the center of the field, he would have less wear and tear on the tractor and truck when he hauled them home.

This year (2020) Dillon showed Dalton’s girlfriend what we meant by bale bowling. We were in the midst of moving the cow herd home, waiting for the chaos to start, hot, bored, and parked in a field full of bales. Surrounded with so much potential, opportunity and temptation; yes, we pushed a couple! LOL  We did forget about the fence that runs along the of the side of the field, but like I said the bales do not get enough momentum from us just pushing.

Trey got a taste of “playing” on the bales this fall. He is afraid of heights (two rungs up the ladder is his limit), but I guess not that afraid to climb up the bales and run along the stacks. Dang near gave me a heart attack when I saw him do this!)

I will never forget the year we had so much snow, it blew in straight up against a tall stack of bales. Then the temperature warmed up a bit and formed a crust along the top.  That snow made for best sledding and snowboarding hill ever. That was before Trey was born. Maybe one of these years it will happen again.  

1-29-2021

The post It started with a bale… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.

It started a couple years ago in a very unusual way. Being Catholic and Lent just around the corner I wanted to do, not the usual. Gave up caffeine one year. That did not go well, and I ended up giving up just coffee and NOT caffeine. Like Father Keith says, “if it’s going to make the rest of the household miserable and walk on egg shells, it’s probably not what God wants us to do.” Fact. I decided to give up reading useless, but sometimes therapeutic, romance novels. If I was going to read it was going to be real and educational….ya know what I mean! Lol I did plan it out. I finished the book I was reading (like the night before Lent started.) Why tempt myself more with an unfinished book?? It was bad enough it ended on a cliff hanger and the next one was available for check out digitally on my phone!!

Then came the new issue. What was I going to do in the evenings when James was watching Harry Potter? (Oh! I’m going to tell him to give up Harry Potter for Lent this year!!LOL) Scrolling through Pinterest one evening, I came a cross the Nerdy Farm Wife’s post on “12 Things to do with Dandelions.” I was intrigued. I like dandelions. She had oil infusions, salves, vinegars, syrup, soap, lotion bars, tea, magnesium lotion, tincture, infused honey, bath bombs and even cupcakes! (I really love her blog.) I can do that! And I did most of it that spring. My husband thought I was losing it. My kids thought I was going crazy. I didn’t over pick our dandelions because they are usually a bees first plant with pollen. I picked and dried the dandelions. I made oil infusions, simple lotions, lip balm, bath bombs, and lotion bars.

A whole new world opened up for me. But not the soap. Nope. Not doing it. I had to use lye to make it a real soap. LYE! It seemed scary and intimidating. All that summer I read NFW posts and others posts on different soap recipes and………did nothing with making homemade soap.  However, by fall the interest was still there along with a major case of self-doubt. What if I mess it up? There were lots of “professional” soapers that talked about all their failed batches of soap that they had to throw away due to one issue or another. Ugh! I’m such a cheapskate. I didn’t want to buy all the supplies just to throw it away!  It all seemed so technical. Everything had to be weighed on a scale. Precise measurements. Safety was a huge issue soapers blogged about. Hot process or cold? Insulate it or not. Scented or unscented? And which oils to use? What did each oil do in the soap? What was a lye calculator? What’s a saponification number?

Honestly, it was very overwhelming and intimidating to me. It became a daily thought process: YES! I could do this! No! I could not do this! Finally, closer to winter, I decided I was going to do it. I borrowed a recipe off NFW’s blog. (She has tons of them, and now she sells books about it, and many for first time soapers……no I don’t own any…yet.) I made sure I had all the ingredients and ordered what I needed. While I waited for my last few items (mainly the lye) I researched soaping tips, how to clean up (this is a majorly important one,) safety (again) and every possible issue I could have and what I was going to do about it.

Finally, the day came and I was ready. Every ingredient and tool sat on my counter. Breathe in, breathe out. Nobody was home. No distractions. I had my recipe and my list of notes, tips, and instructions on what to do first, second, etc. I carefully weighed and melted my oils. Opened my kitchen window to let in fresh air and help with ventilation while carefully mixing the lye into the water. Slowly blended the lye water and oils together. Used the immersion blender to get to thick trace. (soaping lingo) and looked at my first batch of almost completed soap! I did it!! I poured it into my freezer paper lined box (el cheapo again…not buying a mold if I suck at soaping, right?) Tapped it down like I was supposed to. Covered it with a bit of wax paper and wrapped the whole thing in a towel. And put it on the side counter to wait…..I just looked at it…..I was supposed to wait 24 to 36 hours before cutting. Patience is a virtue and soap making will teach that for sure. Ugh. It took forever! I peeked at it every hour to make sure it wasn’t overheating…(it didn’t change so I thought that was a good sign).

The next day barely 24 hours later I was ready to cut. After unmolding, it took a good five minutes just for me to decide how I was going to cut the soap. (I was procrastinating) I finally chopped it up into nice little blocks of soap. Wow! I did it. Then realized I had to put them away….for 4 to 6 WEEKS! (pounding my head on the counter) How do people do this??? I checked them every day. Every day. Finally! They were done! And they actually bubbled! (yes, I was worried!), and simply nice feeling on my hands. I got a thumbs up from the kids. I was hooked on soaping!

Liquid soap, shave soap, clay soap, shampoo and body bars, botanical, scrub and glycerin soap. I tried it all. Dalton actually took some of my glycerin soap to mix with his rosin for his bull riding rope. Bonus!  (Glycerin is actually called transparent soap because all homemade soap contains glycerin…no big wig company to remove it and interchange it with synthetic chemicals and such.) And, as I knock on some real wood, I have not had to throw a batch of soap yet. There have some near misses, and some scrambled changes in plans, but I guess I am just that blessed that I haven’t had to toss any!

And so, it’s continued…soaps, lotions, and still tinctures and all sorts of items. My favorite part of lotions and body butters? I don’t have to fight anybody for the beaters or the bowl. I can slather them on til they are wiped (not licked, lol) clean. My biggest problem with soap making? Do I have room in my shower for one more bar (haha, probably 5-10 at any given time) and which one do I try next . Decisions. Decisions.  : J

The post How I got lured into the land of soapmaking… appeared first on Tonya's Witchy Kitchen.