My mother used to make hand-crocheted slippers. They looked like the shoes worn by the Jolly Green Giant.
Truth be told, I was not a big fan of those little slippers. They looked too home – made and crafty and I had become too sophisticated, somehow, to be impressed by crafts. My mother made many a pair of those little slippers and she sold them at her church’s fairs…six dollars a pair. The sisters in her church group used to snatch those things up. They were a sell-out.
As her daughter, I received my slippers gratis.
While I accepted my mother’s gift with little intention of wearing them, they were the first thing on my feet when the deep freeze of a New York winter brought me to my senses.
Today marks three years since my mother’s passing and the crocheted slippers have been on my mind.
I wish I had a pair.
I never learned to crochet past the chain stitch but I seem to have picked up where my mother left off. Albeit, in a different medium.
She was proud of each slipper because she made them with love and in so doing, they brought her joy.
Last summer I made my first batch of soap. It was a basic olive and palm oil recipe that yielded 18 bars that I have used every day since. I’m down to my last bar that I hope will make it until my current batch of lavender & lilac soap cures.
Who knew soap making could be so cathartic?
I’ve begun stalking the web for soap recipes and supplies. My new hobby has turned me into one of those women who want a house with enough space for a crafting room. I’ll have to make due with the kitchen counter and that’s fine with me.
It brings me joy just the same.
Truth be told, I was not a big fan of those little slippers. They looked too home – made and crafty and I had become too sophisticated, somehow, to be impressed by crafts. My mother made many a pair of those little slippers and she sold them at her church’s fairs…six dollars a pair. The sisters in her church group used to snatch those things up. They were a sell-out.
As her daughter, I received my slippers gratis.
While I accepted my mother’s gift with little intention of wearing them, they were the first thing on my feet when the deep freeze of a New York winter brought me to my senses.
Today marks three years since my mother’s passing and the crocheted slippers have been on my mind.
I wish I had a pair.
I never learned to crochet past the chain stitch but I seem to have picked up where my mother left off. Albeit, in a different medium.
She was proud of each slipper because she made them with love and in so doing, they brought her joy.
Last summer I made my first batch of soap. It was a basic olive and palm oil recipe that yielded 18 bars that I have used every day since. I’m down to my last bar that I hope will make it until my current batch of lavender & lilac soap cures.
Who knew soap making could be so cathartic?
I’ve begun stalking the web for soap recipes and supplies. My new hobby has turned me into one of those women who want a house with enough space for a crafting room. I’ll have to make due with the kitchen counter and that’s fine with me.
It brings me joy just the same.
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| Handmade with Love |
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| Lavender & Lilac Soap |
just the crust 