Bittersweet and the little soap company

Go fly a kite!

When I was a little girl around ten or so and March rolled in with its whip around winds I'd head to the vacant field in our neighborhood with my paper kite. Flying a kite offers a unique sense of empowerment when you're a kid. If it's a super windy day then you'd have the challenge of adding enough tail to the kite so that it wouldn't twist and turn and go crazy in the strong wind. In most instances, until you get a feel for flying a kite it doesn't even leave the ground until you get the knack. You start our running with the kite string released just a bit and then continue to release a little more string until the kite begins to climb toward the skin with the wind as its force.  I always remember thinking that I wouldn't have enough string because my kite would sore almost to the heavens above and the string that was wrapped around the plastic holder just wouldn't be enough. Adding the tail was always achieved by trial and error and not fulfilled by instant gratification. In fact, it took patience and perseverance to get the kite up and away. Once you figured out the amount of tail and the direction that the wind was blowing the kite was flying high. I was proud of my accomplishment and even prouder that I had done it on my own. 

Who knew that something so simple as flying a kite would assist you in life lessons, but it certainly has for this soap maker. Those memories of determination and positive thinking helped me when I was a kid flying a kite and today as an adult in my business and personal life. 

I've always wondered where the phrase, "go fly a kite" came from. 

The phrase - loosely meaning go do something futile - originated during the stock market crash of 1929.

It referred to "the useless bits of paper being tossed out the window" after the crash.

It's also interesting how the phrase is considered to be futile. I didn't find flying a kite to be unproductive but rather the opposite as it taught me will-power and self-confidence. To think something so trivial and simple teaches you all that!

A simple thought for today's time...

So when I say, "Go Fly A Kite", I believe that doing so could assist you later in life in a much positive way. 

Moving towards the subject of soap because that's what I'm really good at!

This past week we introduced a limited edition of Frankincense + Myrrh Cleansing Bars. The popular blend doesn't last long on the shelves. I believe next week's soap is White Flower! 

We are in love with these canvas pillows! They're printed by hand and come in several different designs. They're only available at our door store for now. 

We also received our custom tees. We handpick the font and wording and even the tees so the white cotton t-shirt is one of a kind. We are thinking of listing these on our web store. 

I kind of went flower crazy last week and ordered a big box of flowers for the shop. There is something soulfully satisfying with fresh flowers filling your space. My mind is traveling towards spring every time I gaze upon this stunning bouquet. 

Wishing you the best.

Keep the faith. 

Jill 

 

 

 

Where have all the flowers gone?

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Girls have picked them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Taken husbands every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago
Where…

 

The song makes you think, even today. 

Pete Seeger was a legend in his own time. 

 

Things change but somehow remain the same. 

 

It makes you stop, and think, doesn't it?

 

Summertime and the living is easy. 

Thoughts appear and then disappear. Waves of creativity come and go. 

 

I was browsing through my blog lists and realized most of the blogs that are listed on my sidebar have died. 

The soap maker's blog was launched in 2006 and offered a platform for me to share everyday soap making days. I will be the first to tell you that I'm by far a writer, but during the past twelve years having a blog really transformed me in many ways. All in a positive sense. 

Grammar, definitely not my specialty. Or maybe I should rephrase, and just say flat out, I'm horrible at grammar. Does that make me a bad person? Well, I would hope not. 

Does that make me an uneducated person, I would hope not? What it does, is make me human. 

During my blog exploration, I discovered that most of the blogs that captured my attention were written by real people with real-life problems. Just as in life, each person offers a lot to the table. 

Over the past twelve years, and only through my blog, I've met some really amazing people. Some have visited me in person, while other's remain pen pals for life. 

 

Sharing my deepest, darkest secrets. No. I'm not that person. I'm not that person, in person either. 

I thought it would be fun to share some of my blog memories. 

Things change but somehow remain the same. 

Blog On!

Keep the faith.

Jill 

alice inspiration

Before signing off on the last post, I mentioned how a newly born idea recently came floating by. Most notions work that way. They appear, and either disappear or  come to life. In this sweet case, they've come to life!

I began my search for neutral beaded bracelets towards summers end. In my mind, a vision of an exact design. During my search, I found nothing that caught my eye. My mind wandered to when I was about ten years old. Memories during that time are always fresh, it seems. I was a ten year old hippy. The year was 1969! I had long hair, suede boots, and turquoise rings. Later I'd wear those rings on every finger. That year, I'd finally climb to the top of the tall city park maple tree. I carried a pocket knife in my pocket, and was determined to climb to the very top branch to inlay my initials.

This period of time was challenging for a lot of people. The Vietnam war was gong on, and moms awaited news about their sweet boys. Life was ever changing, and the war brought tragic consequences for many. 

I don't remember too much about the Vietnam war. My thoughts centered around the city park maple tree, and riding my bike. I recall seeing news reporters giving daily updates about the war, but it just didn't seem too important to a ten year old girl whom was blessed with loving parents, and a home with a two car garage. 

For some reason, I've always been interested in stories about war. Quite possibly, in my little girl mind back then, it did effect me. War of any kind, has negative impact, no matter you're a flower child or not. 

The past few weeks PBS has been airing a special about the Vietnam war. I've cried, laughed, and held my head in anguish since I began watching the presentation. I would encourage all to watch, as it really helps you to appreciate everything, more. 

My sweet, soft spoken mom and my kind and generous dad are the best parents in the world!

Later on, when I was ten, my mom practiced yoga in our living room. She'd put on black tights, and stretchy top, and begin doing yoga poses. Back then, yoga was new and not very popular. My mom was always ahead of things. I admired her way of thinking, and recalled how she didn't try new things not because they were trending or popular, she did it because it made her happy. 

One day she handed me a beautiful beaded necklace she'd made. The excitement I felt, is fresh in my mind, today. I was proud and quite intrigued with her new hobby, and thought to myself how cool it was that my mom entertained, put into action her thoughts. 

That ten year old excitement has reappeared! 

Introducing, The Alice Bracelet. 

Keep the faith. 

Jill 

Happy Mother's Day

My Mom Of Many Colors

My Mom could sew and she could write.

I loved it when she held me tight.

She shared her knowledge with me.

In hopes that I would be like she.

Her tender teachings taught me truths that always paved the way.

Sometimes she surprised me in the things that she would say.

She was a Mom so beautiful, both inside and out.

And as I write this little poem , I can hear her say, “please don’t pout.”

My Mom Of Many Colors is high above the clouds and watches from above.

I miss her tender voice and her kisses filled with love..

My Mom of many colors must shine so very bright.

As she looks down on me from the heavens with delight.

I’m sure she’s like a child, and plays among st the angels as they frolic here and there.

And watches down below as she sees her daughter fair.

Jill Ann

winter white

The frigid arctic air has moved its way through my historic town. I'm always reminded of my blessings when the winter turns brutal. I'm thankful for my warm home, quilts, flannel pajama's, and wrap's. My Grandmother Lola always called outer wear, WRAPS! I've never heard a single soul other than my sweet Grandmother Lola refer to warm gear as WRAPS. Simple soulful memories...

The parfumerie is stocked and equipped with an array of essential and perfume making oil's.

One of my customers, friend, shot this while we were formulating her perfume.

A perfume has many layers. Typically a top note, middle, and base. Possibly a variety of each, that when layered create a beautiful blossom.

When I was a little girl my mom's mother, and my other Grandmother lived in Las Vegas. She worked at perfume department located in a large department store. My family would travel through the Midwest to the desert tumbleweed part of the country to visit my Grandmother. One particular visit stands out. My Grandmother Christine had a large stash of perfume she had taken home from the department store. She kept the perfume bottles in two large built in drawers. She asked if I'd like to go through her collection of perfumes. I remember sitting on the floor with my legs crossed sniffing each perfume. I recall feelings of happiness as I sniffed the expensive perfumes. There must have been one-hundred or so bottles of perfume. I remember thinking, I must smell them all, for if I miss one, it could be the one that I admire the most. I spent most of the day sitting and smelling and as I sniffed each one, my fondness and an appreciation for fragrance began to grow.   Present day and those memories feel fresh and new and even inspiring.

The local paper editor dropped by the apothecary shop on Thursday. She is working on a little article about the new Parfumerie. I told her that story because, without those sweet memories, I can safely say, things would be different and more than likely, the word Parfumerie wouldn't be spoken. magical memories like those of my Grandmother's perfume drawer are what mold and shape us to who we are, and our passions are guided by such memories.

That's a picture of my Grandmother Christine, (center) My Great Grandmother Lucy, and my lovely aunt Vivian. I'm the little girl standing next to my aunt.

Sweet memories and soulful seeds from four generations of soap maker's.

Enjoy caring and sharing days.

With all good wishes,

Jill 00 

Related articles

summers way

aromatique graines & essential oils

summer haze

bittersweet

The apothecary shoppe has been busy with the arrival of Mother's day on Sunday. Folks are gathering a bar of soap, a bottle of dry oil, cremes, and lip balms for their favorite mom. This alchemist is working non-stop to keep up with supply and demand. In fact, I'm mixing up face cremes and aroma mists before I head to the brick and mortar. 

Mother's day will foster bittersweet emotions. I lost my mom in 2001 a week after September 11. The world forever changed not just on that horrific day in New York, and then later that week I lost my best friend. 

It's surprising to me how the years have passed but my feelings continue to remain misplaced. I believe that is an appropriate word to describe how I typically feel on Mother's day. That phrase, "a piece of me went with them." I understand what people mean when they say that.

My mom was a soft spoken kind and generous soul. She taught me manners and right from wrong, compassion for my fellow human and numerous life lessons that I have handed down to my son. Love is a many splendor thing? Excuse me for referencing that old song.

She named by business, which little did I know at the time how the word would resonate a more soulful meaning after she passed.

I read something the other day that really captured my attention. I also realized how it's good to be reminded of such things.

  I truly believe this is how one should live.

My sweet memories of the most beautiful mom in the world will forever remain until the day I die. 

Remember too, each day is a gift, embellish it for its worth, for it is priceless. 

Enjoy caring and sharing days.

With all good wishes too,

Jill 00

Related articles

once a year, twice a year

spring sweet

some sweet things

sweet as honey

It's as  sweet as honey!

Those feelings I  have when traveling back in time revisiting past Springs, creations and  pure simple moments. I believe it's inspiring to review the past every now and then. Probably more now than then personally. I've been needing some good old fashioned inspiration and nothing gets me more motivated to be inspired than a journey back.

Sometimes I get teary-eye when I  rummage through old Bittersweet designs. As I travel back it allows me to see a clear vision of my future. Does that make sense? Maybe only to me. Looking at the old version of Bittersweet and comparing it to the new is a sentimental journey to say the least. Pondering strong thoughts of creating a Bittersweet Book!

The cake recipe here.    Big chunks of chocolate covered toffee, in case you're wondering. 
I can still remember how hot it was the day I took the country setting picture. I also remember a banner crop of lilacs! Oodles upon oodles and more than I've ever had in my garden. 

May Day Potpourri. I was pleased as pudding with the label and the packaging. 

Hydrangea and my favorite little flower, the wild violet. Some consider it a pest because it becomes intrusive. I could never think that. The white lilac. You don't see white lilac often. I dug up a few at an old country farm years ago and translplanted them in our yard. They bloom before the purple lilacs and carry a strong perfume in their blossoms. 

Cute Alley modeling the vintage daisy dress. Helping to create shop memories that will carry me through my days of old. 

Lavender Sachets modeled in pretty textiles. 

My sweet dear friend Julie, Jules to some, but Julie to me. Who would have guessed we'd be sharing our shops. Not I! So very happy it all came about. Not sure how, but happy and content. That's not true, I realize it was a blessing in more ways than one-hundred. 

Sometimes when I plan events like the upcoming May Day celebration I get sad. My sadness stems from my personal thoughts. Is it really that important to send postcards that arrive in the mailbox? Do you really care if a cake or cookie is made the old fashioned way rather than a box? Are the carefully chosen giveaways, hostess gifts, and pretty napkins as significant to others as they are to me? I have these same thoughts year after May Day year. 

I have to think, they do. If only one soul does appreciate my effort then that's cause for soulful gratification.

What's that saying? It takes one person -

“Oh, it makes a difference, I thought. And if it doesn't make a difference you will make it make a difference.” 
― Chaim Potok, My Name Is Asher Lev

I believe this to be true...

Enjoy caring and sharing spring days. 

Love,

Jill oo

 

 

 

Related articles

White Daisy & Hydrangea Hats

sweet-heart

Meet Kate of Scathingly Brilliant

How Sweet It Is: Honey's Many Uses

♥

African Violet, Pantone colour 2013: lilac wedding pinspiration board

Lovely Lilac & Lavender

Watch: Honey Maid's Fantastic Advert Against Homophobic Comments

I think we like

In Celebration of Bees

private collection memories

Typically I'm not a collector.  I'm also fastidious when it comes to picking and purchasing items at a vintage market. In the past, I brought home or purchased antique items kind of on a spur of the moment. Not to say those purchases were never wasted or tossed to the side. Some of those items discovered new homes through Haberdasher & Sundries while others were stored for safe keeping. It's a thrill to tuck something away for a spell and forget about it then discover it once again! Sometimes you create an entirely new purpose for the piece. Sweet!

Having said all that... I am a collector of white handkerchiefs! Not just any white handkerchiefs though. I prefer ones with delicate embroidery mono-dramatic usually. White on white. Lacy and sweet. 

Handkerchiefs have quite a history you know. Once considered a staple that no woman would be without. White handkerchiefs carry a particular unique history. 

My grandmother Lola had a beautiful antique dresser that she designated a large drawer for her handkerchiefs. I recall my excitement the first time she opened the drawer and I gazed upon the different colorful textiles. I also recall her always having a handkerchief in her purse.

Handkerchief memories continue as I remember an old boyfriend who never left the house without a white handkerchief in his pocket. 

My grandpa always carried a red bandanna in his pocket. As a child I remember watching him pull the faded bandanna from from the pocket of his tan colored twill trousers he always wore! 

I associate those gentle memories with my handkerchief collection.

If you gaze though my linen drawers you'll find a few handkerchiefs. They are mostly reserved for funerals and weddings. I have found them to be a must have before attending either. 

 Enjoy caring and sharing autumn days.

Warmly,

Jill 00

 

 

 

a blast from the past!

As I wander through old Bittersweet images of once were handmade I'm taken back in time. The textiles and style used to create are somewhat different but yet also similar of that used today. My tastes evolve over time. The design ideas mellow and grow old gracefully. Some of them still hang around in the studio keeping me company like an old friend.

Some of them are in my closet! While others are in closets and kitchens of distant lands.

As I look through the once-were handmade a smile appears on my face.

I'd like to thank each and every one of you that have purchased Bittersweet handmade.

Without you, I would not be inspired....

With you, my inspiration explodes!

Enjoy caring and sharing creative summer days.

Warmly,

Jill 00 

Happy May Day!

This day evokes sweet happy memories!

When I was a young girl May Day was a day that stood out from the rest. I remember  mom picking fresh seasonal blooms from her garden and carefully placing them in tin cans. She embellished the May day bouquets with pretty tissue and ribbons. I have fond memories of helping pick the flowers and arranging them in the pretty little hand made posies. Mom would make holes on the side of the and insert pipe cleaners for handles. She'd usually tuck a piece of chocolate in amongst the blooms.   

Then with May day bouquets in hand we traveled here and there throughout the neighborhood mostly to elderly neighbors homes. May Day tradition of course was to hang the posie on the door and hide, but mom preferred knocking and presenting the May day bouquet to the recipient in person.

I can still to this day remember the smiles and happiness those simple little bouquets brought to the neighbors we delivered them to.

I guess that is why May day is special to me.

Sweet soulful memories wrap themselves around this day.

 
Enjoy a caring and sharing May day.

Warmly,

Jill 00