The Laundry Trials: The Sequel

So, I tried making another batch of homemade laundry detergent.
 

 

This time, using Zote soap and a food processor (yes, we're still alive to tell the tale).

For some reason, Zote seems like it is missing an exclamation point, to me.

Zote!

See? Am I right?
Maybe its some residual form of 1950's marketing rolling around in the back of my brain; maybe too much I Love Lucy when I was younger.

The pink soap works pretty well, and clothes come out clean and smelling nice--perhaps a little better in my opinion than they did when I used the Ivory soap, but for some reason I have a difficult time with the smell of Zote in it's dry form.  It smells like a citronella candle, which I quite like (what country gal doesn't like to be reminded of camping), but there is some undertone there that I just can't handle very well--maybe it's tallow--something, I don't know.  So, even though I like the outcome and the swell pink color ("Gee Mom, let's get ZOTE!"), I don't think this one is for me--just personal preference, you understand.

Next up in the homemade laundry soap geekery department, I'd like to dabble with some castille soap, and my cousin recommended trying the lavender-scented Yardley soap that her family uses...  Stay tuned for the next installment of...THE LAUNDRY TRIALS.


Big Hugs,
Kat


(Zote!)
hee.

Progress, Part I

Seriously, back off with the shears, lady. We will eat your house.

Female human tenant with dull and ancient gardening shears: 1  --
Crazy Dr. Seuss bushes on side of house: nil.
(Okay, well, maybe 0.35 if you count the scratches on my legs and arms, the sneezing, and the, "Gaaah! Spider web! Spider web!" heeby-jeeby dance).
So much for the zen bonsai experience...more pics and story of yard pseudo-transformation to come...
Big Hugs,
Kat

Weekend Homesteading Project #1

So this weekend I engaged in my first documented homesteading project. 

 Dunh-dunh-DUHNNNNN!!!!!!!

Aren't you proud of me??


Homemade laundry soap. Yes, yes, I know--you are, at this moment, in awe of the sheer homestead-er-ness of this adventure. 


Fresh out of laundry detergent (a very, very, very bad thing in this household), I decided to begin the process of embarking on our first little baby steps away from utter Apple-Mango-Tango-Gain-Scented-Targ--ay-Dependency.


First I researched recipes.  I was disappointed to find that most were liquid, which I thought might not be as easy to store.  And then I happened upon a very simple powder recipe here.


Now, calm down (I know you are waiting with bated breath for me to divulge my laundry soap secrets; because it's not, like, it's in a gazillion places on the internet and stuff).


So, honestly, to confess, I did wind up at Target.  But only to purchase this...

And this...































Okay, y'all.

So here's the secret only your grandma and the rest of the blogosphere knows about part:

You take one bar of Ivory soap and grate it.  

Note--I've read many recommendations since, that using a food processor is actually speedier and safer--as (and we're not naming names or anything), but someone *may* have grated a bit of her thumb during this whole experience and although she *may* have gotten a kiss to make it better from her hubby, she also *may* have realized only too late that the use of a food processor would also have probably created more uniform-sized-dissolvable granules (which *may* definitely appeal to that person's control-freak sensibilities). 
Now, since we're on the subject of using an item primarily created for the everyday processing of food (as name indicates, duh), to pulsate something that probably shouldn't be ingested by human or beastie, herein lies a conundrum.  MarkaLee asked me, "So, is it still safe to put food in there afterward?." "Idunno," I said. "The other bloggers who have done so still appear to be alive and posting." To which he replied, in a Pirates-of-the-Carribean voice, "Deeeaaaad Bloggers telllll noooo talezzzzz."

Yes. I told you we are nerds. Please do not try to ignore this fact.

And hey, how many countless kids had their little pie-holes washed out with Ivory soap, and still grew to be strong, healthy, upstanding denizens of society?

But I digress.

One bar of Ivory soap (grated or pulsated, your choice).
One cup of Arm and Hammer Washing Soda (and folks, be not confused by the little box you keep in your spice cabinet--this is WASHING SODA. Found in the LAUNDRY AISLE. Just sayin').
One cup of Borax.


Mix, pulsate or tie to a jack hammer (your choice).


And voila!  Homemade (almost) laundry soap.  
And it's thrifty, too, almost a full 20 cents less per load as you only use a Tablespoon for regular loads or 2 for really scrungy loads.


But.


I couldn't stop there.

Oooohhhhh-ho-ho no.


Me being me, I need something cute to keep it in.


So I took two pickle jars I had been saving, and some chalkboard paint.
I squared off a label-sized patch using tape and aluminum foil, took the jars out on the porch with my trusty-dusty drop canvas, and spray painted the patches and the lids to the jars using the chalkboard paint.

MarkaLee comment upon seeing this conglomeration when he arrived home from a long afternoon of teaching lessons, "We're trying to get aliens to land on our porch?  Sweeeeeet."

I re-applied paint to ensure even coverage and about two hours and one stick of chalk later, I had these babies:

Oh pickle jars, how I love thee....

But be not envious of these marvels... you too can easily possess Pottery-Barn-esque laundry jars on a dollar-store budget.  All it takes is a little paint, a serious craving for pickles and fearlessness in the face of the cheese grater-thingy/food processor.

And did the soap work?  Yes.  Clothes were bright, stains were lessened, although I may try Zote soap in the future as a comparison.  Overall rating, 8.5 out of 10 pitchforks.

So let me know if you try this--I'd love to hear about your ideas and experiences...

Happy Homesteading, my friends!
Big Hugs,
Kat

Can Someone Tell me...

Okay, stupid question, but what is the DEAL with the spacing when inserting pictures and writing posts?

Plus, for your viewing pleasure: a random Smartass Squidley picture, complete with destroyed upholstery...

The sexy, "Come-hither & let me destroy your upholstery, Lounge Cat" look

Grape Expectations

Makes me want to channel Lucy

These grapes hang on our backyard arbor. How they've survived two prior careless tenants, broken sprinklers and my transitioning but still mostly black thumb is a mystery to us.  

The flavor of these grapes is really lovely--sweet and tangy all at once. I'm betting they would make a terrific homemade wine.  What do you think?  Should we endeavor to create our first bottle of Three Bags Full table wine?

Big Hugs,
Kat
P.S. -- Just for grins...

My Blue (but not suede) Shooz

Do you remember these baby blues?

These are my 'old skool' style New Balance 690s; the most comfortable running shoes I've owned in years. I've loved New Balance ever since I was training for marathons and logging double-digit weekly miles because of their comfort and durability. But I never thought I'd go 'retro' for running!


My husband recently started researching the benefits of 'barefoot running' and has been telling me about how the incidence of knee injuries attributed to running has skyrocketed over the last few decades, and that the latest studies hypothesize that this could be a direct result of mainstream shoe designs over the past 20-30 years forcing heel-strike rather than a more natural mid or fore-foot-fall.  When you look at the way animals run, and the way our legs are constructed, it kind of makes sense.  Anyhoo, since I didn't consider myself quite the Vibrams candidate yet, 

Vibrams--my husband has these--I just can't get past the toe thing yet...

 I decided to at least give the newer 'retro' flatter soles a go this time, and whoa, baby, what a difference!  Why did I ever switch in the first place?!


I have really high arches and laid off running much over three miles at a pop the past few years because my feet and knees typically creak and grind with every stride (well, that and I've become a little less athletically ambitious and my job, a little more demanding of my time and energies), but these puppies are so comfy, if my stamina and my muscles were still in shape enough to maintain it, I think I could probably trot along all day in them.  

And nothing (except maybe a little heavy bag work at the martial arts school) wipes away a tough day at work like a good long run...well, that and the nice glass of chardonnay after the hot shower.  

So, although I know runners all have different tootsies and preferences, I'm sharing mine today in hopes this post may help somebody find their next perfect pair!


Happy trotting friends!
Big Hugs,
-Kat

Proof

Sid, aka, "Squidley the Destroyer", Lover of Shoes.

Bacchus, CKG, GOTW...

Hi all.  I apologize for the light posting.  As I said before, I've been nose to grindstone perhaps a little too much lately and my body is starting to let me know things are a little too far out of balance and off-kilter.  Time to slow down a little in my work life, take a little more time away from computers, and have a little more fun!

In the meantime, I'd like to introduce you to an important member of our family (I'm afraid I neglected to add him in my second post).  He is Bacchus, Chief Kitchen Gnome and Guardian of The Wine.

My grandpa painted him for me and gave him to me back in my early 20's and today, he sits on our kitchen counter by the wine rack (a place of homage in our household) and serves as our little Guardian of Wine. My hope is that as we move toward our homesteading dreams, perhaps one day he will be guarding our own bottles of Three Bags Full wine--and maybe even our own grandkids' favorite vintages. But until then, Bogle, Barefoot, 'Two-Buck Chuck' and treats from our Sunset Wine Club (which totally rocks, by the way) constitute his "flock".

Little Bacchus serves as more than just our CKG, though; he a constant reminder of my wonderful, creative, peaceful and lovely hearted Grandpa.  I do miss him and my wacky, fun Grandmother so much, but I smile and think fondly of them whenever I look at Bacchus' cute, worn, little visage.

I hope he makes you smile too...

Have a peaceful and happy evening everyone--

Big Hugs,

Kat

Dood.

                       




What a day. 

Meet the Family...

Just a quick little intro to our little household:

This is my husband, Mark. He likes teaching martial arts, camping and hiking, playing the drums, multiple adrenaline-charged activities, giving his wife heart-attacks, giving his younger brother a hard time and various and sundry forms of geekery (see photo)--especially if it involves bunsen-burners and test tubes.


 

 And this is me.  I love my husband and furkids, camping, hiking, working hard and getting "the cookie at the end", farms, learning in general, coffee (see photo), homesteading projects, reading, organizing, baking (and eating), random acts of goofiness and kindness, campfires with smores, traveling, wine and a plethora of other entertaining nonsense. 



   















This is us at our wedding at a bed and breakfast up in the mountains last October.
If you don't have a good feel for our general level of wackiness yet, you may now consider yourself forewarned... 




















This is Sid (left) and Mika (right); aka, the Brain Trust. 

Sid likes teasing Mika (Moo), drinking from Mark's or my water glasses (he really is rather determined about this), cuddles, chewing on, loving on and dozing on shoes, destroying the upholstery (see photo) and sleeping (he snores). 

Moo likes chewing on Sid, belly rubs, letting us know when her Kong is "broken", running along the fence with the neighbor dogs, trolling for crumbs, rough-housing with Mark, attacking the vacuum cleaner and cuddles. 


Aside from the (poor) houseplants and the spiders in the garage, this comprises
the membership of our strange and wonderful little family here in the House on the Hill.
I feel so very fortunate to have found my own flock of other goofballs willing to put up with my shenanigans.  Welcome to our mayhem, y'all!