Spots. I hate them. I hate them on my face, I hate them on my nose, and I really really hate those spots when in my soap they show!
Below is a picture of the perfect batch. IF you can ignore the fact I forgot to include a crucial ingredient (makes up 30% of my ingredients) and they became so lard heavy that I was blessed with the nine-volt kiss when I licked it. Yes, you read right, I lick my soap. (For my non soap creating readers, it’s one (silly) way of testing it’s pH levels)
See how good it looks? So smooth. So creamy. So spot free!
We can even drop our minds into the gutter for a minute and embrace it’s firmness …. the smooth, baby skin like feel to the outside, it’s, HARDness. *quiver*
I was about ready to squeel with delight when it cut so smoothly. The soap cutter gently sliding in and coming back out … HEY, we’re done in the cutter now, minds back up top please! But it did, it cut soooooo beautifully, without even the slightest hint of resistance. Not the slightest evidence of tackyness or softness.
Course, I later learned that lye heavy soap is like this. Aaah phoeey!
Cutting it up the following day showed just how dry the soap was ….
Thankfully it was such a small batch. The only thing it gets to clean now is the inside of my rubbish bin.
That said, I now felt confident I had beaten my prepubescent Goat’s Milk soap into something more resembling an adult, that I was going to make a proper batch. Following the exact same process as this one (obviously including the crucial ingredient), I was going to produce a superb bar of soap. In fact, 24 superb bars of soap! *nods confidently*
I measured, I heated, I cooled, I mixed, I stirred, I whirred, I poured…
I smiled, I did a little cocky head shake, I patted myself on the back, I laughed at the thought of cleaning up any time before the following day, I air kissed me soon to be perfect batch of soap, I went to bed.
Getting out of bed the following morning, I was practically giddy with excitement at unmolding my soap batch. There it sat on the kitchen bench just waiting to …. completely ruin my fricken day!
From the surface, it looked to pretty. Pulling away the sides of the mold was like unwrapping that perfect chilled chocolate bar – a completely smooth edge.
But it was all a TRICK! Can you see it already mocking me? I could. I could feel it.
As soon as I flipped the soap over, my day was ruined! And it wasn’t even 8am!
SPOTS!! Oh the vile whiteheads of my goat’s milk soap. I looooooath you!
Even looking at the picture makes me angry. One, because it was a WHOLE lot of soap ingredients used for this batch (almost 4kgs!) which for me, while I’m not selling any, is a big cost to the savings account. And two, because the flippin mold dividers didn’t go all the way through. Grrr!
*sigh* look at it. Twenty-four bars of spotted frustration. And it’s not even a few spots either, this soap was making a point! Something along the lines of “neener, neener, neeeeener”. And I swear it purposely hid all the spots just beneath that top layer on purpose! I mean look at them!
Yeah, well two can play at that game! And my game plan involves a pot and a hot stove. So *raspberry* up yours soap! ,,|,
I hate rebatching. I really do. It’s not fun, it doesn’t produce anything pretty and it smells. I’m not a natural blonde (I know, shocking right?) so you would think I would be used to the amonia smell. Well I’m not. And I don’t like it anymore now than I did, well, let’s just say “a long time ago” when I started bleaching my hair.
But it had to be done. This was just too much soap to bin. So after a little over 2 hours, a couple of coughing, gag reflexes while mixing the cement like mixture, I was eventually able to glob something resembling soap into my loaf molds.
The good thing about rebatching I guess, is that the heat from the stove forces it through it’s gel phase so once it’s set, it’s ready to cut. But look at it. Don’t you feel it’s almost looking back at you? That if you were to lean in too close, it would physically leap out of the mold and assault your face? No? Just me then? Ok, good to know.
After sitting in my fridge for half the day (thank you Melbourne heat wave), it popped right out of the mold and was able to be cut.
All in all it doesn’t look too bad cut up – sort of reminds me of chewy caramel. Except it’s hard, not chewy. And I’m quite sure tastes nothing like caramel.
The spots in this soap is the parts in the pot that dried and got mixed into the still warm soap as I was glopping it around. The swirls are kinda cool though… don’t mind those. Gives it a nice ‘better than plain’ look to it.
I’ve even cut up some sample sizes for those on my facebook page that love samples!
I’m hoping that the spots from the first creation are nothing more than working with a larger batch and the increased stirring that needs to come with it. My habit of leaping 5 steps ahead every time I learn something was in full swing last night, and after feeling like I had beaten the spots (you know, with that teeny, tiny test batch), I included another step into my self-teaching process and that was to pour a very thin batch as I’m already feeling my right foot start sliding towards including swirls.
I’m going to use my left foot to kick my own behind (and my right foot) and remember to slow down and beat ONE thing at a time first. And I have to beat the spots because really, I can’t move forward if I don’t get this resolved.
Course you watch… I bet you in less than a week I’m posting pictures of my first swirled soap. *rolls eyes at self*