Around five years ago I ran across a soap/lotion booth at Alpenfest in Joseph, Oregon. The products were amazing.

Fast-forward to three years ago, when we moved to Spokane. The soap-maker lives here, and sells her products locally. Could anything be better?

Well, yes, she could teach a class. For the last two nights, I have been at that class. And yes, I do feel rather fortunate.

To be fair, the soap above was not technically made by me (one of our instructors did the mixing, we did our own stirring and chose the scent…mine is orange almond).

I suspect soap-making is another situation where the process and the product are both rather lovely (like baking, sewing, gardening).

Today I feel that mixture of giddiness and trepidation that happens at the start of any new experiment. First, though, I have to find-and-purchase a kitchen scale. Wish me luck.

(And while you’re thinking about hand-made soap, click over to Amisha’s Etsy shop. She has some swoon-worthy scents going on.)

I see Log Cabin a lot and I’m still charmed by it.

This little bag is the product of a bunch of scraps from a larger project. The scraps were too small to be re-used in the project, but just too good to toss out or use as filler.

The lining is made of Joann-brand fabric. (It looks so clean right now! Soon it will be “christened” by leaking pens and other bag foibles.)

To make the bag, I used the technique for a lined zippered pouch, but I gave the bottom a bit of depth. I used the technique seen in various patterns (if you’ve followed an Amy Butler or Lotta Jansdotter pattern this will be familiar to you).

Cut out squares from the bottom(s). Sew the side seams. Sew the bottom seam.

Then flatten one side seam and the bottom seam and sew across both (you’ll do this on each side). My apologies: I don’t have a photo. If there is interest/confusion, I will figure out a photo or drawing. It really is easier to see than to read.

We went to the Spokane Garden Expo, where we saw this sign. I got a very nice brochure about composting from this group.

B made calzones (using boule dough from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day).

I made cream-cheese blondies (from Martha Stewart’s Cookies).

I initially got both of these books from our library (I test recipes before buying). I am thankful for the selection at our library, and I like to think that all our taxes go there (and Manito Park).

These are tomato plants (with nasturtium) from last summer, nothing illegal.

This Garden Rant post about marijuana made me chuckle.

As did this article from Australia about a cannabis hedge.

It also reminded me of two things:
1) I live in an apartment and have no access to soil. My garden is made up of plants in containers (pots). This prompted a family member to refer to me as a “pot gardener.”
2) Last summer I had three rather healthy and hearty tomato plants. These plants are at the back of the apartment, on a balcony. You could see them from the street, but just barely.

We noticed a police car across the street for a few days, and assumed that he was visiting someone (or had moved in). This was great news: The normally-very-fast drivers slowed way down when they saw his car.

It was about day three that I noticed that the police car was inhabited. The officer was sitting in his car…and his car was positioned precisely so that he was directly in view of our balcony. I figured this was random coincidence (it likely was).

Then the tomato plants started to bear little green fruit. And the officer disappeared.

I do realize that he was probably positioned where he was for some unrelated reason. But I did laugh a bit about my possibly-suspicious-looking plants.

These little loaves come from the book Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I saw a post by All Buttoned Up Melissa, was intrigued, and got the book from our library. I have been happily surprised by the results.

The authors have set up a site (make sure to check out the errors page).

Here’s the first-try loaf (B’s hand showing scale)

Here’s the second loaf

So far, so good.

I love art for art’s sake. And I find a scarf on Mr. Lincoln amusing. (And appropriate…we had hail [hail!] a few days ago.)

This statue garners a fair amount of attention. Last year it was covered with black plastic and yellow tape for a few hours: The tape said “imagine a life without art.” I don’t want to.

A little gardening, a little baking, and a little hoping for warmer weather.

(photo of three-leaf zinnia by B)

This is a coconut swirl brownie from the Martha Stewart’s Cookies book.

These are almond macaroons, from the same book.

In an effort to beckon the authentic flowers, I am making some fabric imitations.

lingering questions

1. Why is the origin of the word gingham?
Wikipedia: It comes from an Indonesian word.

Online Encyclopedia Britannica: “The name comes from the Malay word genggang, meaning ’striped,’ and thence from the French guingan, used by the Bretons to signify cloth made from striped colouring.”

2. The rye bread I buy has only one heel. Why is this?
(Haven’t found an answer. B’s theory is that we might want to see what the bread looks like inside, and the heel would block the view.)
Wikipedia: Rye bread

Online Encyclopedia Britannica: Rye bread

3. What is molasses?
Wikipedia: “Molasses (or treacle) is a thick syrup by-product from the processing of the sugarcane or sugar beet into sugar.”

Online Encyclopedia Britannica: “Syrup remaining after sugar is crystallized out of cane or beet juice.”

weighty thought

from The High Price of Materialism by Tim Kasser, page 77, third paragraph.

“…when we are intrinsically motivated, we do what we do because it is enjoyable, involving, and challenging. One of the most interesting questions researchers have asked about such experiences concerns what happens when people are rewarded for doing the things they find intrinsically motivating. If rewards are important motivators of behavior, giving people money or praise for doing something they enjoy could increase their motivation. On the other hand, it could lead people to care more about the rewards than the activity, and consequently to experience less interest and enjoyment. As such, rewards might decrease intrinsic motivation.”

I like to think I’m above letting lovely praise change that which I am intrinsically motivated to do. But I wonder. Maybe it’s a ratio: If you love the thing more than the reward, then maybe you’re immune?

Plant a seed and wait for growth: Sounds hopeful to me.

Starting seeds is a new project (I’ve mostly bought seedlings from nurseries). I am using this kit from Gardener’s Supply.

To give me the best chance at little sprouts, I re-read my gardening books. I came across some phrases that stuck with me. The phrase ‘bucket farmer’ comes from a book called Movable Harvests. I liked it (rather than ‘container gardener’ or ‘urban food grower,’ etc.).

The phrase ‘grow food at home’ is my take on a quote I saw in another good container gardening book. The original phrase was “eat what you grow where you live.”

A rather sweet man whipped together a bucket/plant design for me (with me sitting next to him saying helpful things like, “can you make it look like it’s an old pail?”). Thanks, B. You were unreasonably patient.

We had a t-shirt printed via Cafe Press.

I chose the fonts.

I found some blue linen and thought: Short-sleeved tunic! I made one (with French seams and everything), but couldn’t love it (even before it got this rumpled).

I still loved the linen, though, so I cut up the tunic.

Using the technique from the Really Big Tote in Lotta Jansdotter’s Handmade Project book, I made a bag (my dimensions are different).

I was going to use this rather clever tutorial for embroidery on covered buttons. I opted for fabric instead. (The fabric is from Superbuzzy, but I don’t see it there now.)

As you can see, I didn’t get the fabric exactly centered on the button. I am happy to live with it as is.

A few things
1) The bag is unlined.
2) The bag in Lotta’s book doesn’t have a closure. I liked this idea I saw on her site, so I tried to do something similar.
3) If you look closely in the top photo, you can see stitching behind the button. I made a “patch” and sewed it on the inside. I wanted the button to be secure, and one layer of linen struck me as tempting fate.