"Twas the day after Christmas and we've taken our Christmas tree down! The poor thing didn't have much of an after Christmas chance. Even though I fed her with water each and every day it wasn't enough to combat the falling of her needles. She was perfect in size and shape, and we truly fell in love with her at first site.
Our Christmas was slow and savory, and relaxing.
My Christmas break rallies on through January, and I'm pondering new products and ideas for 2019.
We sold out of soap!
Not one, mind you, soap sliver was sitting on the shop shelves!
I cleaned the shop soap cubby with bubbly water and prepared it to house fresh aromatic soaps in the coming days.
I'll be crafting a new series of Lavender Soap this month and introducing many new flavors.
That cake was divine! Patrick made the Christmas Cake for our family to enjoy.
It feels so right to slow down and take it all in.
I'm considering, yearning to write a book!
Trying to find just the right title. I really wanted to name the book "The Soap Maker." I did a brief search on the Internet and found that there was a woman serial killer that cut up her victims and put their remains in her batches of soap! Anytime I did a search for the words The Soap Maker, this horrific story popped up!
I know it will be a challenge to take on such a large project while managing the shop and making thousands of bars of soap, but I've been wishing to write for many years. I want to include the many downtown shop proprietors in this book. I'm contemplating third person writing. How does one draw in a reader? Editor! I need a good one because that is my weakness!
The beginning of something new...
I could probably write a story about the serial killer soap maker! Describing her victims one by one, and allowing the reader to be introduced to each of them before their lives were robbed by a crazy Italian Soap Maker! Honestly, I could write that...
It was bath time for little John. His mother grabbed the homemade soap from a jar and tossed it in the tub for John to bathe with. The pale pink soap glistened in the dim light. Little did either John nor his mom know that the soap in that jar was infused with Aunt Mary's blood.
Keep the faith.
Jill
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