A little unnerving…

…but TOTALLY AWESOME.

A couple months ago my apartment building caught on fire. I’m fine, cats are fine, everyone in the building including pets is fine, but there was a fair bit of damage on the other side of the building.

Today it came time to replace the roof. It’s been loud and distracting and since I don’t have a curtain in my bathroom and the main thoroughfare up and down runs right outside it, I’m still lacking a shower. But I happened to glance outside this morning and see this.

Apparently part of the burned-out roof was just too fragile to take apart in place, so they lifted it off wholesale. I grabbed a camera and flew outside barefoot (hi, construction site, but my feet are fine) and got a bunch of pictures.

And, just to be completist, a video.

Unnerving…

…but AWESOME.

Bathtime!

Every once in a while I actually manage the time to take a bath.

Yes, I should be doing this more often. It’s my own stuff after all! But somehow it’s still hard to make time for it.

Anyway, it was a lovely relaxing bath (in Queen of Hungary Bath Salts, using Tea Tree Calendula Soap, for those who’re interested), save for one small, confused, very anxious kitten who spent the whole time right next to the tub (when he wasn’t on the rim) crying at me as if to say ‘but Mom, that’s WATER!’.

‘Don’t you realize that’s wet?’

‘Please get out, that’s just not right!’

…he’s mightily relieved now.

I love my family.

They made me this:

See, my mother owns a trophy store back in Pennsylvania. I worked for her (and for my father, before he died) for a lot of years. In fact, that’s where I learned what I know about graphics and layouts — I can thank them for my labels, especially the custom ones.

Since I moved out here my sister works for Mom in my place. She also does graphics work, and did a couple of lovely ads for me:

A while ago I asked them to find me a business card holder — ideally one that someone else had ordered and never picked up, or perhaps a sample they no longer needed, or something they’d messed up the engraving on. I didn’t want them to spend any money on it, see; I just wanted somewhere to put my cards.

Well, they went and spent money anyway. And on top of which engraved my company logo and stuff into the top.

Doesn’t it look great?

I love my family. :)

A Dirty Secret

I’ve just returned from spending a weekend camping with my kitten. I will freely admit it: This was an insane action (I did, however, get a vet OK first). It all went very well and he had a wonderful time and now I am home and exhausted.

So far I have:

– bathed with Long Day Working Bath Salts
– sprayed my face and shoulders with Ease the Burn Sunburn Spray (since, alas, I forgot about sunscreen)
– coated my feet with Minty Footy Salve
– put Scratch & Dent Salve on all the kitten scratches (he gets up much earlier than I do, and got bored in the tent)
– put Bite, Sting & Rash Salve on a spot between my toes where I think there might be a splinter, but I’m not flexible enough to find out
– sprayed basically the rest of my body with Minty Footy Spray just on general principle

And you know what? The stuff works.

I hear you saying ‘Of course it does; that’s why we buy it from you.’.

I’m going to tell you a dirty little secret.

I don’t really believe that anything I make is going to work.

–

Okay, that’s overstating the case some. And simplifying things. But fundamentally, it’s also true.

I do the research — on the internet to start, I’ll admit, because it’s easier and quicker to Google than to dig through the indices of a dozen books looking for something, but I’ll verify what I find online in at least two of my books before I actually add it to a recipe. I check prices at several vendors whose products I trust — I want to put the best ingredients available in my products, but I also want to keep them affordable. I mix and remix and take notes and compare scents and test everything on myself and on anyone else who’ll stand still.

I sell them, and people buy them, and they rave. I’ve gotten passels of good reviews and testimonials and feedback. I had several people come up to me this weekend and tell me how much my sunburn spray helped (I wasn’t the only one fool enough to fail the sunscreen test, alas).

And still there’s a little voice in the back of my head telling me I’m a hack.

The only reason my stuff helps people, it tells me, is the placebo effect. Or perhaps they’re just being nice. My Aunt Ann is hardly going to say she doesn’t like my chai lip balm and that the scratch & dent salve she got from me doesn’t work, is she?

…yeah.

Then I use something on myself, and likely as not the next words out of my mouth will be along the lines of ‘holy $%*^, this stuff works!’. Promptly followed by either blank stares or laughter depending on who’s around. (Tim laughs at me.)

Really, Jenna over at Balmbastic isn’t gonna say nice things about anything she doesn’t really like. I’ve seen her. She’s perfectly willing to say your stuff is awful if it is. She’ll say it nicely, but she’ll say it.

The many soon-to-be-brides who’ve bought custom lip balms have no reason to sugarcoat their opinions, either. I shan’t say anything about the pickiness of brides as they’ve all been wonderful to work with, but still, one wants everything to be just right for one’s special day.

And the people in my camp, who used (and praised) my sunburn spray, would have been in too much pain to say nice things if they didn’t mean them — judging by the varied shades of red involved.

So it’s got to work. And in fact, when I try it on myself, it does work (I’d be in a lot more pain right now otherwise).

…so why am I always so surprised?

And I’m off!

I’m away for the weekend — don’t worry, the kitten’s coming with me so I can take care of him! I have new things posted on Etsy (they’ll be up on Creative Cafe on Sunday or Monday, whenever I have brain, Jill). Not going to go on about them now, because I need to get on the road! But do have a look.

Go ahead and order stuff if you like — I won’t be around to answer questions but I’ll get stuff packed up and shipped out on Monday or Tuesday. Which would be the soonest I could anyway, with the holiday here in the States…

Have a good one, y’all, and I’ll see you on the other side!

For my Mom

Cast off — sail away.
Maybe I’ll be back someday.
It don’t seem likely, but it’s anything can be.
Mama, Daddy, don’t you cry;
You always knew I’d say goodbye.
I got a beauty of a berth on a ship just made for me.

She’s the sweetest little darlin’ that you’ll ever find,
A wee bit battered but the best of her kind,
And she’ll run forever with a good hand on her heart.
I’m a little out of place when I’m on the ground,
And that’s the reason that I’m outward bound.
Can’t you see that I’m a Firefly’s missing part?

Time’s up — have to run.
Can’t sit idle when there’s work needs done.
You raised me right and I know I’ll make you proud.
You both know that I’ll be fine;
This world’s for you, but the whole sky’s mine,
And I’ll go just as far as an engineer’s allowed,

On the sweetest little darlin’…

What’s the point of havin’ wings if you never leave the nest and fly?
What’s the point in havin’ dreams if you never reach out for the sky?
I’ll never know my limits if I never even try.
You ain’t raised a farmer’s wife, you’ve raised the mechanic of a Firefly!

Big sky — bigger plans.
I’m doin’ what my heart demands.
I’m gonna treat that engine sweet and she’ll take me far.
When folks wonder over me,
Just say I found Serenity –
Where the sky’s not the limit, I’ll be shining like a star.

Well, this Firefly’s the place that I’ll make my home,
And while she still flies, that means I’ll still roam,
There’s a lot to do, so I guess it’s time to start.
I’m the sort of girl who loves the simple things,
And I can hear the future when my darlin’ sings.
Can’t you see that I’m a Firefly’s missing part?

She’s the sweetest little darlin’ that you’ll ever find,
A wee bit battered but the best of her kind,
And she’ll run forever with a good hand on her heart.
I’m a little out of place when I’m on the ground,
And that’s the reason that I’m outward bound.
Can’t you see that I’m a Firefly’s missing part?
Oh, can’t you see that I’m a Firefly’s missing part?
Missing Part, Seanan McGuire

I listened to this one today, for the first time in a while. It reminded me of how long I’ve been determined to go my own way, to fend for myself, to (I guess) leave the nest and fly. I sang this to myself the day I packed to leave the ex, I sang it on the long drive from Pennsylvania to Colorado. I ought to have sang it as I set about starting my own business and when I quit my job, but I’d lost it in changing computers.

I don’t know what inspired me to dig it back up but I’m glad I did. It says a lot of what I wanted to say to you about why I’m doing this, Mom, but it says it a lot better than I’ve managed.

What’s the point of havin’ wings if you never leave the nest and fly?
What’s the point in havin’ dreams if you never reach out for the sky?
I’ll never know my limits if I never even try.
You ain’t raised a farmer’s wife, you’ve raised the mechanic of a Firefly!

It’s not all gonna make sense to you, I know. It’s a song about a TV show. With spaceships and things. (That’s the Firefly she’s singing about.) That’s not the important part, though — it’s the feel of it, the challenge to the rest of the Universe to try, just try, to push me down.

Big sky — bigger plans.
I’m doin’ what my heart demands.
I’m gonna treat that engine sweet and she’ll take me far.
When folks wonder over me,
Just say I found Serenity –
Where the sky’s not the limit, I’ll be shining like a star.

It’s the time and effort and care you need to put into a ship so she’ll run smooth. It’s the love for a ship and for treating her right. It’s what keeps me working ten, twelve, fourteen hour days. It’s what keeps me going when I have a bad day (or week) and don’t bring in a cent.

Time’s up — have to run.
Can’t sit idle when there’s work needs done.
You raised me right and I know I’ll make you proud.
You both know that I’ll be fine;
This world’s for you, but the whole sky’s mine,
And I’ll go just as far as an engineer’s allowed,

I’ve got it set on repeat right now. The cats are starting to look at me funny (well, more than usual). I’m singing along with a huge smile on my face and tears trickling down my cheeks. It just says it all for me.

Mama, don’t you cry. I’ve got a beauty of a berth in a life that’s just made for me.

Why Arnica + Bath = Bad

So I spent a while working up and testing my Long Day Working Bath Salts. See, I’ve long been in the habit of helping people move, and since I have a bad back (well, I never said I was smart) I tend to wind up fairly broken by the end of the day.

I also tested it on friends, many of whom also help people move, or do martial arts, or break themselves in a wide and fascinating variety of ways, but I always test my concoctions on myself, first.

And boy, am I glad I did.

Arnica oil is a wonderful and commonly-used remedy for bruises and bumps where the skin has not been broken. It’s brilliant stuff, very effective, easy to find and very safe as long as you follow the instructions printed on the package in big letters NOT TO BE TAKEN INTERNALLY.

Okay, I thought, I always whack myself into something while I’m helping people move and certainly my friends into the martial arts wind up bruised on a pretty regular basis. So why not arnica in the bath salts? It’s not like people are drinking them.

As always, I test on myself first. So I did up a batch of the arnica-less salts, added a few drops of arnica oil to one bath’s worth, and cast it forth into the delicious hot water.

It was lovely and wonderful and soothing. But wait, I was starting to feel a little anxious…my heart rate rose…what, I wondered, as I lay in the bath, was I worried about? What weighed so heavily on my mind that even a bath could not soothe it…in fact seemed to be making it worse?

At which point I had a revelation…nay, a series of them.

I am a girl.

Girls have girl bits.

Girl bits are made of mucous membranes.

Which absorb things.

And they were exposed to, and thus absorbing, the arnica which is NOT TO BE TAKEN INTERNALLY so I drained the tub, rinsed myself off but good, and fled to the kitchen whereupon I poured water into myself while I prepared a cleansing tea (about which more later). Soon enough I was feeling sufficiently better to go to the computer and check out exactly why arnica is NOT TO BE TAKEN INTERNALLY:

The internal use of Arnica is not suggested. It can cause raised blood pressure, weakness, increased heart rate and nervous disturbances.

…yup. That’s what it did.

I still have the bottle. I’ll use it to make a bruise cream, which will be wonderful and effective and will help ease the bruises involved with helping people move and martial arts and such, and every jar I sell will say NOT TO BE TAKEN INTERNALLY.

Natural =/ safe

…but of course natural is safe!

Isn’t it?

…isn’t it?

Y’all know better, right?

So here’s a tale of when natural and safe aren’t really the same thing. Happened just a little over a year ago.

So a few days ago, what with one thing and another, I decided to try the respiratory tonic tea I made up a while ago, to see if I was at a point where I could lower my asthma meds some. Every morning I made up a mug of tea, and drank it, and indeed after a few days my breathing did improve.

Unrelatedly, I thought, I started showing allergy symptoms. Sniffly-nose a little, but mostly annoying post-nasal drip that drip-dripped down the back of my throat, tickled, and made me cough enough to scare people. Okay, it’s spring and things are blooming; or, I haven’t vacuumed in a while and have four cats; or, it got chilly and I had to close the windows. I took Alavert; no help. I took Claritin; no help. And it got worse and worse until today I woke up feeling like crap and only got worse.

Had a low blood sugar attack that scared hell out of me and most everyone within range. Those who know me well enough know I don’t get_ low blood sugar problems. I can eat breakfast and keep going for hours; I can start getting hungry and it’ll make me grumpy, but I won’t actually have issues. If I’m helping someone move (and I was, today; Linette’s store is moving to a better location) I normally eat breakfast and dinner. Lunch? There’s work to do!

Round about four I got too hot. Then I got shaky. I went outside and laid down on a bench; didn’t help. I got peanut butter cups to get some sugar into me quick; didn’t help. Drank a lot of water, which did help a bit, because I was dehydrated. Didn’t help too much. And all through it, cough, cough, cough.

Ate pizza at Joe’s suggestion (he gets blood sugar drops regularly). Helped a little. still felt shaky. Got Ray to drive me home so Tim could stay and help Linette, and took about a three hour nap. Felt more awake, still shaky. Couldn’t really eat dinner. More nap, no help. Came home and started digging though my herb books for allergy remedies. Wrote down what was in my breathing tea first, thinking that if there was some overlap I’d just add a few other useful things to that.

One book had a lovely little ‘allergy warning’ at the front that I almost didn’t look at. I’m not allergic to herbs; I’m trying to use herbs to help an allergy! But something caught my eye.

Calendula. Related to ragweed.

There’s calendula in my respiratory tea.

I’ve been drinking an allergen for the last four days or so.

So now I’m off the stuff, and trying to figure out what to do with it. Find someone with asthma and no ragweed allergy, I suppose. Something. In the meantime, lacking half the ingredients I want and not wanting to go pick dandelion greens in the dark in grass they probably spray, I’ve cobbled together a ’spring cleaning’ tonic out of red clover (good for breathing), nettles (good for cleansing), peppermint (tastes good and helps with half the things in the universe), and eucalyptus (which I basically put in because it felt right). And already starting to feel better.

–

Within a few days I was fully recovered; in the meantime, discovering that Tim isn’t allergic to ragweed, I gave him the rest of the tea. It does help, when he remembers to drink it.

Do please note that I’m not trying to say that calendula is a bad thing. It’s not; in fact, for those not allergic to it, it’s a wonderful breathing aid. It’s also marvelous for many skin conditions, and good for ths kin in general. It’s in my Scratch & Dent Salve, in fact, for its antiseptic and wound-healing qualities. And in that form, I use it all the time.

See, my allergy to it is not so bad that I have to avoid it entirely. I make soap with calendula petals and wash myself with it. I make and use the Scratch & Dent Salve. Most folks, unless they’re direly allergic, should also be just fine.

This is why I take such care to prevent cross-contamination. I’ve a dear friend who’s very, very allergic to lavender. I use lavender in many of my products, and so, when I’m making something that shouldn’t have lavender in it, I make very sure that it doesn’t. Not that Olwyn is necessarily going to order that precise thing — but if she does, she shouldn’t have to worry. And she doesn’t have to.

So check ingredients. Be aware of your reactions to things. Know what you’re allergic to and avoid it. And never, never assume.

Next time, a lesson on why you don’t put arnica in the bathtub.

Well, hail.

No, really.

It started out rain. Then looked like sleet, but it’s been too warm for sleet, y’know? Then the next thing I knew it was hailing marbles and I would have sworn Santa’s boys had got confused and were tapdancing on my roof.

Big marbles.

Really big marbles.

The first shot I took while it was still hailing — crouched in the dubious shelter of the balcony half-wall, trying to fit as much of me as I could under my hat, and still getting nailed in the butt by FREAKING BIG HAILSTONES.

The second one? About twenty minutes after it stopped, once I’d had time to get the first set of shots off my camera. TWENTY MINUTES.

Holy cow.

Then this happened:

See, I’m from eastern Pennsylvania. We don’t get tornadoes. So I was all like, wow, look at those swirling clouds, I wish I had a video camera. That siren? The fire sirens always go off during exciting storms.

…no, dummy, that’s the tornado siren.

They don’t have those where I come from.

…so yeah, anyway, it didn’t actually turn into one, and even though I’m on the second floor and have no basement, I have a plan: grab the rat and head for the laundry room. It’s halfway buried in the ground and well-protected and about as safe as I’m going to get. The cats are all in closets and under beds anyway, so they’re on their own.

It’s quiet now, and Tim has said that the birds are a better predictor of imminent excitement than anything else, so as long as they’re still chirpy and happy I’m not worried.

In the meantime, one last photo. This one’s for Tim.

Alas!

My camera has died and is dead! (D-E-D-Q!)

It’s still under warranty and I have the receipt — but I’m still going to have to send it to Connecticuit (and who thought that was a good idea?) to service and it’ll probably be a couple of weeks until I get it back.

I’ve so far been unable to locate a camera to borrow that really does what I need it to — so it’s going to be a while before I get any new jewelry posted. Which is a crying shame, because I’ve been making a lot of new jewelry. But I’d rather wait for good photos than post substandard ones.

Soon enough, I hope, but it won’t be soon enough for me!