How to Make Soaps at Home

Store-bought soaps that are said to be gentle or safe for sensitive skin are still made with lye. Made up of calcium hydroxide and lime, lye is a caustic chemical that is dangerous and corrosive. I watched a lot of soap making videos and picked the simplest instructions to try. I didn't follow their steps exactly but the soaps turned out great. I like kiss (keep it simple, stupid) instructions that don't make me think, so here you go.

Things you will need:

1. Glycerin block. I found out three types of glycerin blocks available for sale in stores like Joann Fabric, Michael's. They are: olive oil (transparent), cucumber (lightly green), goat milk (white). The glycerin blocks I used were olive oil and white glycerin blocks from Michael's. One glycerin block in Michael's costs $9 while the exact same glycerin block costs $14 in Joaan Fabric.

2. Food coloring. You don't have to use food coloring. I chose food color dyes because they are safe to eat and I want my soap edible. I got mine from Wal-Mart food section

3. Fragrance oil. I picked lavender, rose and gardenia. I got them from Michael's

4. Dried lavender and rose buds from my garden (my own extra addition. You can omit this)

5. Soap mold. I got them from both Michael's and Joann Fabrics

6. Utensils: paper cups (no one on internet or YouTube suggested paper cup. They all ask you to use double boiler but paper cups work the same if you use microwave), stirring spoon, knife

Instructions:

1. Cut the glycerin block along the premeasured lines to smaller pieces with a utility knife. Fill the paper cup with the cut pieces.

2. Microwave the paper cup for 40 seconds. Stop microwave and stir the cup with spool. Continue to heat the cup every 10 second segments until all glycerin pieces turn to liquid. (If you overheat it, the liquid will overflow so make sure to stop your microwave every 10-15 seconds after the initial 40 seconds and stir. I knew it because it happened to me several times.)

3. Add a few drops of your fragrance oil and food coloring into the cup and stir the mixture. (I also added dried lavender or rose buds). Gently mix it briefly otherwise you will see a lot of bubbles on the soap. Also when you add color, remember the color will look darker in solid form than in liquid form.

4. Pull the liquid mixture into the soap mold

5. Let it to cool for at least 1 hour. I let mine sit overnight.

6. After you pop the soaps out from the soap mold, spray a little alcohol on them. One reason is to make them less slippery, and the other reason I use it is for sanitation.

You are all done!

Just be creative and have fun with it. Love to see how your soaps turn out to be like.

Let There Be - My Next House

Not that I don't love my current house (I do), and not that I can afford another mortgage right now (I can't). I love my beautiful house which already retains most of the qualities I have ever wanted in a dream house. But bear with me, let my imagination run wild. Let me dream the dream, the dream of my next house. Big or small, let there be

- light. Supposedly, God created light on the first day. My next house has lots of large windows to bring in that first creation. If the property is wooded, clear a half acre radius around the house so no trees can cast shadows on or fall into the house. No need to dress the windows with curtains unless in the bedroom and TV area. Building codes usually do not allow an all glass house but design as much windows as the codes allow.

- privacy. Out of sight, out of mind. If I can not see my neighbors, I'm in the country of Ping, indivisible under God, invisible to Al-Qaeda terrorists and immune to swine flu. I'm a castle, a solemn nation, as indestructible as the United States of America and China combined. So the house should have more acreage than 1.5 acres where my current house sits because I still see the tip of the roof line of one neighbor from my house. Probably a 5 acre ground will do.

- sun and water. I love the sun. I love the sun so much that my parents named me after it. If it's in a sunny and warm tropical climate, it does not matter if my house is just a grass hut as long as it's on the water's edge that I can walk to the beach to swim all year round, and enjoy the warm breeze all day long. If it's not waterfront, it has to have an outdoor swimming pool (salt swimming pool with solar or heat pump heating, unlike my chorine pool with gas heating). Some water features around the house are nice to have too. They have to be far away from the yard though so I can add chlorinate in the water without the overflowing water damaging the plants. Lessons learned from my current ones.

- fire. Install at least two gas fireplaces: one in the living room so during Christmas season I can have the socks hung along the mantel (as seen on TV), the fire burning with the music playing in the background, and the aromatic soups cooking on the stove. The other fireplace is outside the patio by the pagoda. By the way, it can be a single fireplace facing dual sides inside and out. Even in the south, there are still a few chilly nights for outdoor sitting.

- double ovens in the kitchen. Double ovens are a must for a modern kitchen. I can cook my heart's content and party with my 100 closest friends occasionally (ok I'd admit to make that number I will have to go find all the homeless people on every corner of the streets and drag them home) without running out of the ovens to heat the food.

- granite slab countertops (with sharp contrast flowing colors instead of black color as I have now), stainless steel, or glass granite slab countertops. The kitchen opens to the dining area and living room with the hanging stainless steel chimney above the 6-burner gas stove and three hanging lights above the bar area.

- dramatic lighting. Make sure there is one beautiful light above the one-piece wood dining table that sits at least 12 (My current dining table sits 8. We had to patch it with another table during Thanksgiving dinners). Another group of lights hang low above the coffee table in the entertainment area. Lights should be considered a part of the art works too. How they look and where they hang define the dimensions of a space.

- grapevines. I love the big leaves and their curly vines. The grape fruits not only look and taste good but they also allow me to make home wines with the harvest. It's also such a romantic thing to drink wine under the thick grapevines with grapes hanging down. It would be nice to have a manageable mini vineyard.

- yellow bamboo. That thick trunked kind of bamboo trees roaring over 15 feet tall (as seen in China and in many magazines. Don't know where I can get them though). Plant a bunch of them on one side of the house. Use landscape spot lights to shine on them. Bamboos are one of my favorite plants (grass indeed). They are so low maintenance, yet giving a Zen look while allowing the soothing sound in when the wind blows.

- a romantic garden. The house is not a dream house without a dream garden. A best garden is to contain the essential plants to you and then let the nature do the job. Essential plants to me contain some climbers, herbs and purple/pink color flowers. Plant some disease-resistant China pink and white tea roses climbing along the arbors. Roses bloom for a long season, especially in the south. Plant some fragrant rose bushes surrounded by all sorts of herbs, and all my favorite plants including purple lavenders and hydrangeas. The rule of the garden is to repeat the same plants, and to group them so the garden has structures. Set the color tones to make sure they don't look too busy together. Pick some of the other native plants and scrubs to edge the garden. The garden should have more evergreens than perennials and annuals so the garden always looks good with or without the flowers blooming. Oh, I forget that this house is in the south. Never mind about the evergreens.

- minimum decors. The decors bring a combination of spa and hotel lobby feel, a feel of intimacy and openness. A large front wood double door opens up to a water fountain mirror in the middle of the entryway, dividing the living room from the entryway. Install some dimmer spotlights on the ground covered by glass along the hall way. Let the lights shine on the plants (cactus?) in the planters decorated with pebbles. The colors for all the walls are different shades of gray, white and a tint of lime green. The house is furnished in a minimalist style, leaving room for mental play and imagination. A minimally furnished house draws the eyes to the house, not the furniture. Need to place a few of large clay and wood sculptures and one stone Buddha statue, and hang a few extra large dramatic abstract painting canvases all through the house (I can pull some color paints on the blank canvases, Ola!) and a couple of framed Chinese watercolor scroll paintings (frame the ones I have). A splash of color comes from the art pieces, not the furniture or the wall.

- a round soaking tub or a claw tub.  Place it in the middle of the bathroom close to the large glass door opening to the outside. Modern and clean look European vanities (as seen in the Olympia Bath store). No door needed between the bathroom and the bedroom. Separating the two is a full glass tiled shower wall extending half way of the length. The roof right above the shower head is sky lighted so the sun shines through and you feel the warm sunlight on your skin when you shower. Sound also echoes well which is very important for someone who likes to sing in the shower.

- an outdoor hot-water shower and outdoor wired surrounding sound. Just as what I have now, the difference is since I live in the warm south, I can use the outdoor shower all year round. Outdoor shower is also one of the reasons why the property needs to be private.

I'm still dreaming so don't wake me up yet. Oh, last but not least let there be no mortgage. Let me match in and out of my bank free and clear, without feeling like paying visits to the real owner of my house. Let the epic battle against RMB yuan and US dollars be over. Once and for all, I'm free, free at last!

Oh, let there be. Let there be ...my next house!

Seasons Come. Seasons Go

Spring: Growing Season

I was born on a day in March so I 'm a child of spring. In old China
there were no air-conditioners in summer or heaters in
winter. Many would-be parents had to plan ahead to deliberately have their children born in spring. It was no coincidence that both I and my young sister were born in March. Spring brought memories of wild yellow flowers on the hillside outside my dorm windows. Me and my girlfriends slicked out of our offices in the middle of the day. We lay on the hill soaking the warm sun. The spring sun brought out the freckles on my face so I hoped for the summer to sweat out the freckles. I watched the new buds coming out of the tree branches. I looked for signs of new life, and...I fell in love.

Time for a new life. Time to grow. Fell in love. Tasted sweet.

Summer: Blooming Season

My hometown Chongqing has been called an oven city because of its extreme hot summer weather. When I was attending the college, our campus was close to Yangtze River. Every year there were students drowning from swimming in the river. School rules forbade anyone from swimming in the river. But it was so hot, we always slipped out during the nap time to go swimming in the river. Hot days made people lazy too. No wonder they say people living in the tropics tend to be lazier than people living elsewhere. In those lazy summer mornings we woke up with our eyes just idling away. I used to travel a lot during every summer vacation. Hiked 40-50 miles a day along the deserted countryside under the burning sun. Came home all darkened out. Tanned skin was considered unattractive back then so I hoped the autumn would come quickly to pale my skin back.


Time for a splendid display. Time to bloom. Madly in love. Tasted hot and spicy.


Autumn: Parting Season

Leaves started turning color and then parted themselves from their branches. The ground was all covered with Canadian national flags. Summer bamboo mattress felt chilly on the skin. I put away my favorite summer shorts and skirts. Sentimental at sight of every falling leaf, reminiscing the passing time and missing my family and old friends back home. Moving in and out. Lost in the new city. Felt my artistic side and had an urge of painting and writing. The gradually shortened daylight made me aware of aging and dying, and the fleeting nature of life. Losing the other half of my heart to the half autumn moon outside the window. The full-moon festival in autumn heightened the sense of lost and loneness. The sky seemed to know how I felt too because it rained tears with me all the time.

Time for good-byes. Time to mature. Fell out of love. Tasted bitter.

Winter: Hibernating Season

I got to bed early as that was the only warm place for my cold feet. Felt the urge of peeing but spent rest of the night wrestling whether to get up in the cold to the only public bathroom at the other end of the long hallway. Hours later still laying in bed fantasizing how nice it would be if someday someone invented a container underneath a bed so I didn't have to get up and pee (20 years later, I heard this invention does exist and it's used in some hospitals for some terminally illed people).Waking up in the morning, my feet were still cold.  It was freezing cold inside and outside. Time froze with it, so was my sense of self. I laid myself to sleep. I slept in that cold bed a lot. I hibernated.

Time for a rest. Time to recoup. Buried love. Tasted lumb.

Years later and oceans apart, the cycle of the seasons continues to season me.

Photographs and Memories

Photos are nothing special nowadays. Downloading, sharing and printing photos are so easy ever since digital camera was introduced. I now use camera excessively to a degree that it is almost as if I rely on my camera to remember things for me. Guess I’m not alone in that aspect. Has anyone travelled without a camera lately? But just several decades ago, a camera is a thing of luxury. Back then I didn’t have a camera, without camera, a photographic memory was developed.

When I was in China, as a selected few from my school after graduating from junior high, I attended a boarding senior high away from the town where I grew up. I came home visiting my family on weekends. Traveling between home and school required one ferry ride, two bus rides and a lot of walks on foot. There were several hundreds of steps in the bank connecting the top of the hill where the ticket booth was located, to the bottom where we took the ferry across the Yangtze River. In today's standard, it's even unimaginable hassle and bastle to the young and healthy. Back then it was the typical transportation we grew up using, old or young. Although the distance was only 15 miles or so, the travel time was at least 3 hours long. I usually left home for school early in the morning on Monday. My mom or dad would wake me up and we got ready in a hurry. My sisters were still sound asleep. Without exception my dad succeeded in insisting walking me to the dock and seeing me off there. It was so early; The city streets were still empty. The early mornings in Chongqing were always misty and foggy. My dad and I walked in silence. We stopped at the booth. He bought me the ticket and handled it to me. After a quick good bye to him and I walked down the steps. No hugs. No turning backs. I counted the steps in my mind. Every time it was a different number so until now I still didn't know exactly how many steps they were. I walked on the dock towards the ship. After getting on board, I found myself a seat by the window. Looking out, I saw my dad still there, above all the hundreds of steps in the same spot by the booth where I left him. At a loud sound of the whistle, the ship slowly pulled away from the dock. As the ship moved, the dark spot where my dad was standing became smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared in the fog. I didn't know whether he was still standing there. At that moment, I felt like crying, but I always managed to force the tears back because of the crowd. It was my first experience with parting. For years, I had the urge of putting that dishearten parting moments into a painting. I never did. The white fog, gray ship and the black spot size dad above the countless steps have made their way into an unforgettable photograph in my memory.

After graduation from college, I was assigned to work in a design institute in another city, about 10 hours train ride distance from my parents' house. I usually went back to visit my parents during the holidays several times a year. Besides holiday travels, I also travelled often on business and leisure to many different cities, which usually meant several days' train ride. At that time, very few people could afford plane tickets so trains became the main transportation for long distance travels. Trains were always overloaded with people, especially during the holidays. Sometimes you could not even get a hard seat for part or entire of your train journey. If you got on a train during the holidays, didn't bother about using the bathroom in the train. Even if you pushed the crowds through your way there, the bathroom door was open but the space was occupied - by the people using the bathroom floor as a standing platform. It was a common scene in which people made beds out of the floor, overhead luggage compartments or the space underneath the seats. I've been there, done them all, at one time or another. The sanitation conditions in the trains were so bad, especially before the Chinese New Year holiday. One time we were not allowed to open the windows at some stops. The train was already full at the beginning station so no tickets were sold to those people at those stops. Poor people. I felt sad for them because they would miss spending the holidays with their families if they couldn't get on the train. At that moment I realized how lucky I was to be in the train, a lucky pig after all. Some of the people outside even tried to throw themselves inside through the open window cracks. It was dangerous because no one knew when the train was going to start moving. We were not even dared to open the windows for the next train stops on. It was unfortunate because we needed to buy food and water from the vendors outside the window at the train stops. Every time I got on the train, I told myself to transform my body temporarily to an animal, a pig for instance. I learned to shut off all my senses. Pigs didn't know the difference why should I if I were a pig. That was how I went through with the rides in ease. I told myself it was ok Ping because as soon as I got off the train, I’d be a human again. Each time when I stood on the station, waiting to catch my next train ride, I always imagined how nice it would be if the train was an archery arrow and I was the arrow tip. With one pull I was shot to the target - my destination. On those long train rides, to kill the boredom, people usually talked to the passengers around them. I often ended up engaging in open dialogues with the strangers next to me. Because we were all the same strangers under such a train condition, we forgot about our prides and our differences. Uninhibited from confiding to each other, we shared food and we also shared our life stories. It was that kind of candid and rare bonding I occasionally find later in life only on the roads of travels. For the remaining few hours or few days of a train ride, I felt for the first time so related to another human being. Time passed fast from there on until it was either my station or their stations to get off. Without saying goodbyes, they left me or I left them. The train started moving again. I suddenly realized we never exchanged names, or addresses, or phone numbers. Strangers remained strangers forever. From there on, I tried to stay awake. I told myself to remember this, to open my eyes, to look hard and deep at every face and every place flashing inside and outside the train windows because these people and these places were only there once. It was the first time and last time in my life I knew I would ever encounter them. Memory is like a glass wall: You can see through it but you can not get to it, so close yet so distant.

Photographs and memories, staying with me are those moments in time.