how commerce was invented...

this was one of the finished (but never shared) posts i mentioned. i honestly do not recall even writing it, but i am happy that i did. reading it now reminds me of a bit of (wholly unsolicited) advice i received back when i was turning thirty (really wish she was around when i turned forty). it went something like this:

your thirties are when you stop worrying about people around you, and realize that it is okay to own your own crazy. the best part is when you find yourself surrounded by people who are willing to share their crazy with you. you can sit down to laugh and talk together, each person doing their own crazy thing... and that is totally okay. 

--------------------------------------------

there are a few reasons why i make note of so many ridiculous conversations i have with the animator. sometimes it is the absurdity of what passes for adult conversation around here. sometimes it is relevant to whatever nonsense i plan to talk about. but, sometimes it is for purely preemptive purposes. i am just gathering evidence for when i i have to explain to a Judge and Jury that he had it coming. [and, just like that... i will be humming 'Cell Block Tango' for the rest of the night, which always makes him understandably concerned.]  

this time around, the provocation (nice legal term there) involved a series of conversations over three consecutive days. it began when he got off the phone with one of the people working on the series he is directing...

him: that was [beekeeper guy]. he asked if you needed more honey, so i said we were good for now. then he asked if we were using it, and i told him yes. we use it in tea and sometimes in cooking, and that you used some of it in the soap you just made.

me: oh, for fu... what did i tell you about telling people about this stuff? he's gonna think i'm some kind hippie who makes her own soap.

him: he was all excited. he loves that kind of stuff. i told him you'll trade him some of your soap for more honey.

me: great! i'm trading soap for honey. that's one step closer to smelling like patchouli and living in a commune. 

the next day...

him: i was just talking to [another animator]. he asked if we were watching anything for Halloween, so i told him we were doing werewolf movies this year.

me: uhm... ok.

him: he asked if American Werewolf in London was on the list, and i told him it was, but we'll probably skip that one because i've seen it so many times, and you watched it with me a couple times already.

me: ok.

him: then he suggested Ginger Snaps, and i told him that you refuse to watch it because it's about teenagers. i told him that you don't like stuff about teenagers and all their teenage problems and teenage drama. i told him you mostly watch stuff with old people. 

me: what the...?

him: then he joked that you probably like Matlock, so i told him that you do. and Murder She Wrote, and a bunch of British shows with old people, like Last of the Summer Wine and Dad's Army and that sort of stuff. 

me: why??? why are you telling people stuff like this about me. now they think i'm a soap-making hippie who's obsessed with old people. 

him: well... it's true, right?

then i just walked away, before i was overcome by the urge to end him. i wake up a day later, and what is the first thing he says to me?

him: i just forwarded you something that [yet another animator] sent for you. 

me: uhm...?

him: it's about dyeing yarn with mushrooms.

me: seriously... you need to stop having these conversations about me with other people?  

him: are you kidding? he was excited to share this with you. he's all about mushrooms. he goes foraging for them, and he has tons of books all about mushrooms.

me: great. so now they think that i'm a soap-making hippie who dyes yarn with mushrooms while watching shows about old people. good grief!

him: look, you gotta understand that they love that sort of stuff around here. in their eyes, you're amazing.

then he paused briefly before adding...

him: in my eyes... you're insane. 

any. day. now. already got my 'statement to the Court' ready to go and everything. 

me: Your Honor... i betcha you would have done the same!

 and, yes... i traded the beekeeper some of the soap i made (with honey from his hives) for more honey. doesn't everyone have a honey guy?

i did warn him that this was a particularly exfoliating batch, as it included a generous amount of rolled oats. i believe in a good hard scrub in the shower, or why even bother, right? just talking about homemade honey-oat soap here. 

note the difference between the freshly-cut piece (left) and the dried out bit from the edge (right). the drying will continue through the curing process (about two months), resulting in a lighter color overall.

it is hard to tell from this angle, but i made wayyy too much of the stuff. 

i had to take a break and pry my fingers away from the pastry cutter long enough to relax my hand. 

finally, it was done. seriously... what was i (over)thinking when i made this much soap? i am convinced that 'trading overstocked crazy' is how commerce was invented. prove me wrong!