Making, Watching, Waiting, Learning

I never imagined that making soap would feel so much like working in a science lab.

But here we are.

After more than 40 years as a registered nurse, including years working in burn units and now in clinical research, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that my approach to soapmaking involves a lot of observing, documenting, and evaluating.

And notebooks. Lots of notes.

I'm learning new processes, developing new skills, and discovering that some of the things I've spent my career doing are coming in pretty handy in this new chapter.

Safety first. Always.

Before I make a single bar of soap, my kitchen becomes my little science lab.

Making cold process soap involves working with lye (sodium hydroxide), a caustic substance that can cause serious chemical burns.

Having worked in burn units, I have a healthy respect for anything that can burn skin. Trust me on this one.

Before I begin, my husband and the grandchildren (if they're visiting) get the warning that the kitchen is officially off-limits.

Then comes the safety gear.

Protective eyewear, gloves, long sleeves, long pants, apron, and closed-toe shoes.

I even found protective glasses with readers built in!

Yes, I geeked out a little over that discovery.

I also mix my lye solution outside, where there's plenty of ventilation, before carefully bringing it back inside.

Safety isn't the exciting part of soapmaking, but it's the most important part.

Then comes the chemistry.

One thing I've learned is that precision matters.

Every ingredient is measured by weight, in grams. The amount of lye must be carefully calculated for the specific oils and fats in each recipe.

Temperatures matter, too.

I use a digital thermometer to check the temperatures of my oils and lye solution before combining them. And, of course, I write those numbers down.

Because I want to know what worked, what didn't, and what I might do differently next time.

I've even graduated from hand-copying every recipe into my notebook to printing recipe cards and keeping them in a binder.

Progress!

And then there's the fun part.

Once the oils and lye solution are combined, the real learning begins.

Soap batter has a personality of its own.

Some recipes stay beautifully fluid, giving me plenty of time to work. Others thicken much faster than I expect.

I'm learning when to use the stick blender, when to stir by hand, and when to stop messing with the batter and get it into the mold!

I've experimented with natural colors and even tried combining two colors in a single batch.

I watch videos of other soapmakers creating these beautiful, intricate designs and think, maybe someday.

For now, I'm still pretty excited when I make a nice, smooth bar of actual soap.

I'm also learning to blend essential oils to create my own scent combinations. Another opportunity to be creative, but one that requires careful research and attention to safety.

And air bubbles?

Oh, those little troublemakers.

There's something so satisfying about a smooth bar of soap. I'm learning how the way I blend and pour can make a difference.

Every batch teaches me something.

Sometimes it's what to do.

Sometimes it's what not to do.

And then comes the waiting.

If you've been following along, you already know that curing has become a big part of my soapmaking journey.

After the soap is made and cut, it needs time to cure.

During those weeks, excess water evaporates, the bars become harder, and the soap develops the qualities I'm looking for in a good everyday bar.

I've been learning about proper storage conditions, airflow, temperature, and humidity.

And I've established a little Tuesday night routine.

I weigh the soap.

Every. Single. Bar.

Every week.

I record the weights, transfer them to a spreadsheet, and look at the trends.

I'm watching how much moisture the bars lose from one week to the next. It's fascinating to see those changes become smaller as the weeks pass.

Will those numbers eventually level off?

Time will tell.

Eventually, I hope to graduate to weighing just a few representative bars from each batch.

But for now, I'm learning from every single one.

The lessons are adding up.

When I look at those shelves of soap, I see more than bars waiting to cure.

I see the first attempts, the experiments, the surprises, and the small improvements.

I see skills I've carried with me from one chapter of life finding their place in another.

And I see how much I still have to learn.

There is something really satisfying about being a beginner again. About being curious enough to try something new, even when you don't know exactly how it's going to turn out.

For now, my process looks something like this:

Safety.

Making.

Watching.

Waiting.

Weighing.

Documenting.

Evaluating.

Repeat.

And somewhere in all that repetition, I'm becoming a soapmaker.

One batch at a time.