Friday, February 28, 2014

Kyphi ~ Magic and Art

I consider myself a practical person, not overly prone to airy-fairy spiritual nonsense, but I do have a deep and profound respect and love of the natural world and the spirit, or spirits, that live within nature. Nature is everything. The Universe, air, the ground under our feet, us -- it's all nature, and it is in that way that I revere the spirit. Kyphi has become a big part of that reverence. I am ever amazed by its simple bones, its basic structure, that, like raw clay, it can be transformed from dust into art, a transmutation of holiness. Can you tell I'm astounded by it? I am once again immersed in the throes of kyphi bliss, having just completed the soaking of herbs and fruit in wine. What a change is made when that is done ~ the wine at first smells off-putting and sharp, ugly, to be honest, but after a day or two it changes, it brings the essence of the herbs to the fore, warmed and sweet, emitting notes of spices and herbs which are not actually included in the formulation. For example, right now the herb mash smells of cinnamon toast, but there is neither cinnamon nor, obviously, toast in the bowl. In a moment it will smell of the vineyards in August when the grapes are spread on paper to dry in the hot valley sun, and fifteen minutes from now it will smell of a field of lavender with violets in the wings. It is magic, and I pour my spirit and love into it.

Lavender kyphi herb base and wine

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Lavender Kyphi ~ On With the Grind

It's been a few days since I began the lavender kyphi, and already I can smell its potential. It is heady, and I mean knock you out heady. Thus far in the mashing bowl is lavender, orris, sandalwood, opoponax, pine resin, and Siam benzoin. I hunted down an appropriate fruit to include in this new kyphi, a rather lush and musky papaya that went immediately into the dehydrator. Pink Lotus Kyphi, if you remember, used organically grown Fuyu persimmon as the fruit base, and it turned out beautifully. The persimmons, once dried and soaked in gin, had to be carefully peeled of their skins because the skins wouldn't break down in the mortar. It was time consuming, yet a vital part of the ritual and process of making kyphi. My only concern here with this kyphi is how well lavender will burn -- will it burn to smell like wood, or lavender? Time will tell. Plus, once I add a few staple tricks to the mix, I'm certain things will end well with this kyphi. It is my deepest desire that it does.

Once again, I fall in love with kyphi.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

New Kyphi in the Works ~ Lavender

I started this kyphi on Saturday, inspired by a conversation with Shannon at Wilwand Tea here in A-Town and her desire to once again find a lush lavender incense. She related that she bought it from somewhere (I apologize, I cannot remember who she said she obtained the incense from) and that they were always in short supply, and then discontinued the incense altogether. So I thought, why not make a kyphi based on lavender? A rich, lush, coumarin-rich, sweet, herbaceous lavender kyphi. What I usually do when I bastardize a traditional kyphi recipe is print out my recipe, then adjust the amount of dry herbs to resins, and choose the correct dried fruit and wine that will focus on the primary scent I'm working toward. To get me in the mood, I began by burning some of the raw materials on a charcoal -- first the sandalwood chips, then the frankincense, the myrrh, a bit of opoponax, orris root, lavender buds (which, to be honest, burn kind of funky but manage to smell deep and delicious anyway in a sort of burnt grass/vanilla way). What I manage to throw in after all the resin grinding is done is up to the muses.

Monday, February 24, 2014

Day 98 ~ OYON, 365 Days of Olfaction

Lemongrass. Vintage lemongrass. Vintage lemongrass by Mane, carefully preserved, and so delicious as to make one want to drink the bottle. Yes. That delicious.

Lemongrass isn't typically a scent I go ga-ga over, but this lemongrass -- indescribably smooth and lush, floral, sweet, juicy lemon with a delightfully creamy undertone -- just 'does it' for me. Most fresher lemongrass extractions I've used have a high citronella note, one that really doesn't set right with me, reminding me too much of summers outdoors and lots and lots of heat and buzzing, pesky bugs. This lovely sample of lemongrass is outstanding, lots of floral notes, like lemon blossom and rose, and an overall seamlessly smooth tone. Like rosey lemon drops minus the sour note.

And just look at this color! Vibrant and jewel-like, and no, I don't normally prance my bottles of oil out in the sun, but I couldn't resist sharing the lovely color with you. I promise, this lovely oil was not scorched in the 30 seconds or less that it took to grab a picture of it in the bright light. Back into the perfume repository it went, cool and dark and happy.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Got the Bottles!

I didn't wait long after yesterday's post to receive the bottles, and I'm quite pleased. The retro-vintage style spray bottles are exactly what I was looking for, and the wee bitty 3 mls are cute. Both sprays are fine mist sprays, which is also exactly what I was looking for, and the roll-on is nicely made as well. Very pleased with these bottles, that is, until customers begin to complain about problems they're having with them, then it's back to the drawing board. Ugh.

They're quite photogenic, don't you think?

It's been quite warm and sunny here the last couple of days, and my jasmine is blooming like mad in its itsy pot. I have to run to the tea shop in a bit, but when I get home I think I'll re-pot the jasmine so it has room to spread out. It was worked into the shape of a heart by the florist. I plan on setting it free to work out its own shape.

I also ordered a survivor's kit of heirloom seeds, mostly greens and peppers and beans, staples really. I can't wait for them to arrive so I can begin the sprouting process. I plan on pot gardening this year (no, not pot, in pots) since there is zero yard and no where to plant in the ground. I've tried doing so in the past and it never quite worked out, but this year I am determined to make food! More than just a squigey little green bell pepper and an errant tomato. At the Van Ness house in Fresno, I planted jalapenos in the only sunny spot I could find, and they lasted two summers, the second summer being the best with the pepper plants growing up to three feet tall and providing enough jalapenos to make salsa once a week. I'm sure the new tenants have ripped them out of the ground by now as they seem out of place next to the orange tree, and they winter over looking much like naked reeds.

I have a lot of work to do today and I'm putting it off because it seems daunting, just getting started, but I have to. Several projects are in the queue, none of which pertain to actual hands-on creation. Bleh. I must get them out of the way before proceeding to the fun stuff.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Bottles In the Post

Waiting for bottles and vials to arrive is frustrating. Tracking says they're in transit, so that's something. UPS knocks on the door, and that's something, too, because I've had things taken from the front step when USPS leaves them -- USPS, for some gawdawful reason, does not knock, nor have they the sense to leave a ticket on the door to pick up the package from the post office. They leave it on the step of my house which sits on one of the busiest intersections in town. Corner house with opportunities for all sorts of shenanigans. Had a few packages go missing that way.

I'm really anxious to bottle up this new perfume, to work out the kinks in the label designs. In the meantime I've de-Bugged the house, tossing all her glitters and glues and crayons and coloring books, dollies and Chap Sticks into her toy bin and putting it all away in 'her' room. I've swept and damp mopped, changed out the cat litter box, washed a few loads of laundry, taken out dinner, watered the plants, printed out soap labels, rearranged the perfume repository, checked online for where to purchase more Buddha's hand citron and bergamot oranges -- and still I wait as impatiently as ever for that damned package to arrive!

My son repaired my bike last night. He put on a nice fat-butt seat so I won't complain when we go riding together, not that it will do much good. I haven't ridden in over a year! A year. It's unbelievable to me. I rode my bike to work and back for a year and a half, loved every blessed minute of it. Getting started will be difficult without necessity urging me on. And there are hills here where in Fresno there were no hills. That will pose a challenge for me. I am so out of practice, the idea of riding, though exciting, frightens me just a bit. But I now live in the land of hikers and bikers and yoga masters and zen living. I must adjust. Hey, at least I'm eating raw dehydrated kale again.

I've been thinking a lot about my business plan. My non-gonna-ask-for-money business plan. I spoke with a good friend last night about how it scares the hell out of me, and how much I hate business-related writing, particularly coming up with a business plan, and she suggested I write a story about a business, my business, a piece of fiction, as crazy and out there, as artful and whimsical as I could come up with, and launch my actual business plan from my whimsey business plan. I kind of like that idea. In fact, I love it! The fairy tale of the incenseur perfumer and her little shop of miracles. Sounds good to me. Watch the story unfold here.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

New Perfume

So, a few months back, on a whim really, I started to formulate a new perfume. My formulation was based on an old Florida Water recipe I found in one of my antique perfumery books, with many, many modifications, as I wanted it to be more complex, less 'eau fraiche' and more perfume-like with some substantial heart and base notes holding it all together. I formulated and tweaked and evulsed and tweaked some more into the wee hours of the morning, hoping at the very least to get a nice, yet expensively made, floor wash. Yeah. A floor wash. But what came of it, after setting it in the perfume repository for some weeks, was a gorgeous eau de toilette that is floral and musky and spicy -- sweet and delicate with fine, strong bones. The tenacity is extraordinary for a natural edt, the evolution slow and languorous through the citrus and florals to its spiced musk drydown. I can't wait to share it. I'm waiting on the bottles and then I'm on to filtering the formulation to clear it up. I know, it's so uncharacteristic of me to not share what I'm working on, but it started as a personal project, something just for me, and those I don't usually talk much about.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Bye Bye Bug

Well, Bug's gone back to Fresno with her mom. Just left a couple of hours ago on the bus. She sat on my lap here at the house all morning until she had to go, cuddling and telling me she was going to miss me, and to please come see her at her home and then bring her back to my home. I miss her already and can't wait to have her over again. It was a really good visit.

The Famous(ly gross) Bubble Gum Alley in SLO, CA

But now that she's gone, I have work to attend to! I was busy while she was here, teaching her the fundamentals of soap making, and how to flavor groceries with essential oils. She's a good student and remembers to run to the supply closet to grab her goggles and gloves when we begin our lessons. So I haven't been entirely idle during her visit. Now for the real work, though. I'm reformulating a few of the old perfumes, gathering the oils and absolutes necessary to complete them.

I'm writing a new business plan, which reminds me how much I hate this part of the 'business'. It's difficult for me to define what I want, I mean, I know what I want, I just don't know how to explain it, or, probably more accurately, I'm afraid YOU won't approve, meaning a generic YOU, as in the powers that be YOU. I have to keep reminding myself, this ain't about YOU. I'm not applying for a loan or grant or investment capital. I'm attempting to build myself a road map, to goal set and keep on pace with where I want this to end up. And to be perfectly honest, I don't ever want to 'end up' anywhere. I want to continue the journey until I end, then perhaps leave a fully functioning business from which my children can reap benefits.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Desks and Brains

I am embarrassed. But -- yes -- I've heard that a cluttered desk or workspace meant the person who belongs to the clutter has an overflowing and abundantly creative mind. My head should explode any moment now...

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Doing What's Best for Business

To some this may sound like some uncharacteristic capitalist dreck coming from my fingertips. To others, just another lame title that doesn't relate to the post. In this case -- well, I'll allow you to figure that out.

I read that somewhere, that line, 'doing what's best for business', and it immediately set off alarms -- I began imagining the other hated line, 'it's just business'. These word combinations usually follow some crushing of people underfoot, some standing on necks, and often a snicker of superiority, so you can see why I don't much care for these arrangements of words. I think they're a lame excuse for being a bullying asshat who can't stand to have someone else do well. Or, heaven forbid, better.

Anyway, I decided to finish reading the article these words were in, in that particular arrangement, and came to realize they're not quite so bad, not in the context of this article. Then I also began to realize that this same concept I hate so well is the reason I've held back really growing myself in a more business-minded manner, lest I become one of 'those' people. I use the excuses that I'm a procrastinator, or lazy (*gasp!*), a flake, or disinterested in becoming the business I've always secretly dreamed of becoming. I'm no stranger to hard work, and I've made lots of money for other people to enjoy, no laziness or procrastinating involved. In fact, one might say I was eager to do the work that supported their lives but barely supported mine.

I believe if I look at this differently, if I redefine what it means to do business, then I'll have taken a huge step toward reaching my goals. For example, replace the word 'business' with the word 'me'. Doing what's good for me. Now, knowing I'm doing what's good for me instead of a generically evil business means not living with the consequences of crushing people underfoot because I wouldn't do that, or standing on someone else's neck to get further up the ladder, also would never do. And I certainly would never, ever snicker with superiority because I don't think we're that different from one another.

On with the business (me). Ha! Part of this business dream I have is world travel. I see others doing it, other people in this business are operating shops and online stores with finesse and financial success, traveling to Europe, Morocco, Japan, places within the US ~ New York, New Orleans, Seattle ~ and for me, that's a big, big deal, one that I'll never see to fruition if I don't get this business definition wrapped up with a big money-green bow. Money isn't bad, greed is bad (this is my newest mantra). I don't feel greedy, I feel . . . hopeful. And I am now willing to work for me. Oh, and no more doing what's necessary to 'get by'. I'm sick of getting by. I want to do things for people, for myself, my family, and I can't do them with the 'getting by' attitude riding my back. And the excuses. I shuck those as well. They're a misrepresentation of me. Misrepresentations I've encouraged and hidden behind for a very long time. They're self-defeating, a false admittance of weakness, and I want nothing to do with them anymore.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss

But I found one on the beach yesterday that gathered a barnacle.

It's the Week of Lylli. Self-imposed. Fine but exhausting. She's intent upon 'helping', which can mean anything from happily pouring an entire bottle of bubble maker into a half-dead plant because it needs water, to salting and peppering the counter top. We have so much fun being ridiculous.

Found a few bits and pieces of perfumery instruction dilutions, so I'm thinking of cobbling together a few kits (more than the one frankincense kit I have put up on the Etsy site). I may even pair one grouping of dilutions with an evaluation workbook (also on Etsy). As much as I love creating perfumes and scenting for other projects, I also love offering solid educational materials. Evaluations, as I've said before, are the heart of the natural perfumer's education.

Other good -- no, wait -- great! -- news in NBP is that we're finally putting together an advanced perfumer's course. The pricing hasn't been worked out because the course is incomplete at this time. The valuation of the education has not as yet been determined. Also, we may offer the course gratis to students who've completed the six-month intensive course, and require payment from those students who are already working within the field but want inspiration and further education to push them to the next level.

Also going to be trying my hand at self-igniting kyphi incense as a few customers have requested something that doesn't require charcoals to burn. I will be experimenting with that this year, so fingers crossed something good comes of it.

Sunday, February 09, 2014

New Perfume Course February 22, 2014

The Natural Perfume Academy is beginning a new six-month intensive perfumery course online beginning February 22. Course work will begin March 21, after student registration and orientation.

For more information go to ~

Friday, February 07, 2014


Finally, we're getting rain here in California. Not the buckets of rain we need, but nice, steady stuff that's already beginning to change the landscape. I now live in oak country (I've heard 7 or 9 different types of oak live in the vicinity) and some oak looked devastated by the lack of rain, while other trees, non-natives mostly, were absolutely shriveled and dead. Now bits of green are popping out here and there. The neighbor's gravel yard, a space somewhat larger than our back strip, is now host to trembling sun-seeking weeds, tender and green and hopeful. People in the area are saving rain, setting out 30 gallon plastic garbage cans to catch as much of the precious stuff as possible to use on their food gardens. Smart folks, and happy to live in an area that still allows that sort of thing.

I've been having strange dreams again, when I can sleep. Manzanita remains prevalent, their long, twisted red limbs spreading out like a giant spider across the landscape. I don't know what it means to dream of manzanita, but it's soothing to see them. I remember a witchy friend of mine from years ago told me the soul of the earth lived in the flowers of manzanita. She would pluck the flowers by the light of the full moon and make tinctures that nearly glowed with energy. Fairy food, she called it.

I'm trying to come up with a new business plan, something more suitable to my mutable creative style. As far as bottling preferences, which always seem to be an issue, I'm going roll-on and spray. I have several packets of Papilio, a clear label which adheres to bottles and appears seamless, but I can't get them to work with my perfumes -- the coloring is too opaque and the juice too dark (in most cases) and I end up with illegible, muddled looking labels. So I'm sticking with paper as it seems to better fit the art nouveau vintage style aesthetic I've adopted over the years. At times like these, I wish I had a boss to help direct me. Not a bossy boss, just someone to provide some clarity, who has the knowledge of an artist's heart and a perfumer's soul, with a smidge of business acumen. My other more ambitious, practical self.

So, I've done something I swore I'd never do again. I've committed to a small retail gig. I know I've spoken of the tea shop down the road, and I've taken to visiting it at least once a week (going on two weeks now) to shoot the breeze with the shop owner, Shannon. She's an inquisitive sort, and though I don't like talking about what I do or about myself in general, she has a way of pulling out information in a very subtle, unobtrusive way. She knows a bit about what I do and I was obliged to give her a business card, after which she hopped on the 'net and looked me up. So now I've got a little soap thing going with her, nothing too set in stone, flake that I am. I will be creating a couple of soaps for her, a rosemary and perhaps a lavender/peppermint. We'll see how it goes from there. I really don't mind providing small companies with bits and baubles of soap, but what I don't want to do again, ever, is get in with distribution. While I owned and operated Delicia, my business partner and I got in with a very nice distributor in L.A. who kept us pretty busy with soap orders, but being the businessman that he was, he was searching for the very best deal he could get, which ultimately ended up with us making between .03 and .05 cents per bar of soap when all was said and done. Not very profitable considering the work involved. I also feel like I have to cut corners when dealing in retail because wholesale customers don't want to pay a lot of money, regardless of how awesome the product is, if they can find something similar for a little less elsewhere. I don't like cutting corners. I have standards that I apply to what I do and I intend to remain there. We shall see how this works out.

I attempted to make kheer last night, rice pudding with rose water and milk and cardamom. My technique needs work. I think I'm going to try a vegan version with coconut milk next time, and crush the cardamom to dust. I added a pinch of saffron as well. The problems were with the cardamom and the milk. I kept getting big pieces of spice and it overwhelmed my palate, plus I'm somewhat lactose intolerant . . . and the massive amounts of sugar was off putting. I think I can cut that back as well. Problems all over the place.

Wednesday, February 05, 2014

Mortars and Pestles and Distillates, Oh, My!

So the weeks, and now months, of rifling through boxes digging about for 'lost' things is over. I'm taking in boxes one at a time and going through them, all the way to the dust at the bottom. The garage is divided into halves now -- the half with boxes filled with aromatic goodies, and the half filled with haphazardly piled empty boxes. Since making this commitment (ugh), I've discovered a liter bottle of perfume I had thought used up. One that a long-time customer had been asking about. One that I had mistakenly told her was gone, gone, gone to the ether. The reason I had not been able to locate this bottle on my Tasmanian devil-like scurryings in the garage was the bottle had slipped its label. It took a side-by-side sniff test to determine exactly what it was. Now relabeled, the bottle sits happily in the new done perfume repository (the Harry Potter bedroom under the stairs).

I wrote about the Nook I received as a Yule gift in a previous post, now I want to talk about a gorgeous Lao style clay mortar and pestle set I bought myself as a Yule gift at the Asian market in Fresno. I've been on the hunt for relatively inexpensive mortars and pestles since I began my journey into kyphi making. I do indeed hand crush all the resins, however many days it takes, because it's cathartic and meditative and really puts something special into the finished product, and also provides a fairly decent upper body workout. I once wrote here about orris root, particularly an antique orris root sent to me by my dear friend and perfumer, Amanda, that put me in a swoon while I macerated it in a mortar. It just crept up on me. One moment I was gazing out the window, crushing the root in sort of a daze, not really connecting movements to any thought process, kind of putting myself in a hypnotic state, and the next thing I know, I'm jerked out of that space into the present again as this scent -- this gorgeous violet hued, buttery rich scent -- rose from the mortar. That's when the true beauty of making authentic kyphi struck me. The spirit of orris awoke me to that feeling of wonderment and bliss and happiness and connection, so it's no wonder I make it a habit to hand crush all the resins and herbs used in the kyphi making process. The new mortar and pestle are fabulous, really big and bulky, the mortar made of glazed clay, the pestle resembling a vintage wooden Louisville Slugger cut in half. And it cost less than any other mortar and pestle I've ever found -- half less. AND it works beautifully. The inside is somewhat rough and unfinished so crushing resins and herbs is a fairly easy endeavor. When next I visit Fresno, I intend to purchase a few more, building stock toward teaching kyphi classes here at home.

This particular Lao mortar and pestle can be purchased at

Using the Lao mortar and pestle, I was able to render spikey rosemary leaves into dust within 10 minutes.

Speaking of rosemary, I did finally make a big batch of rosemary soap. I added some gifted arnica flower absolute, which turned the soap a rich mossy greenish brown color. It smells so darned good! I love a rosemary soap. I forget how great it is because I think of it as a stock item in every soap maker's inventory, which makes it seem ordinary. It's not. Not really. This particular batch has all the hallmarks of a good cineole rosemary -- eucalyptus notes, camphor notes -- with the arnica flower adding an ambery nuance, warming it up and smoothing out the pointy edges. I went easy on the coconut cream this time as I've found that it makes soap a bit too creamy and gooey in the bath. It's great for skin, but does nothing for the lifespan of the soap itself.

In my possession are a few flavor distillates which I find interesting and perhaps useful in perfumery. I am currently playing around with a brown sugar distillate that embodies all the rich caramely notes of brown sugar, however subtly. It's definitely not a screecher. Very muted and somewhat weak in aroma, but it is there. Sweet, warmly caramel, honey-like. I haven't as yet worked with it in a composition as I'm still in the evaluation stage. I'm not even sure it would be a viable component to a perfume, seeing how quiet it is. I will keep you updated when I do use it -- perhaps combined with butter CO2 and vanilla it will pop as a rich caramel note.

Saturday, February 01, 2014

I'm Okay. Really. I Think...

I got a Nook for Yule. The HD model, so I can surf the internet and watch Netflix (I heartily thank you for the introduction to Mr. Benedict Cumberbatch), read endless books, and generally waste more time doing nothing when I ought to be doing the floors (I even dreamed one night that I should wake up and clean the toilets). I admit, it saved me a bit, that Nook. Saved me from having to think too hard on my mother's passing, saved me from having to fully engage in the condolences, saved me from sinking, though, as it turns out, it is a form of sinking itself. I downloaded a lot of cheap books. Lots. Read about 10 the first week and wondered what the hell happened to all the good writers? Have I been out of the loop so long (in my other life I was an aspiring writer) that I'd lost track of the good ones? Or perhaps I was being cheap. Buying the $1.99 specials and cruising the free listings too often, what I'd imagine finding in the 99 cent bin at the Dollar Tree ~ bios of obscure politicians, craft books for crafts no one wants to do (365 Ways to Recycle Toilet Paper Tubes was never going to be a bestseller), no fewer than a half dozen books on how to get rich quick, and fiction that makes no sense and goes no where. I've been trying to wean myself off the Nook, get myself out of my pajamas for a change, walk around the neighborhood, do something other than wearing a path between home and the post office, or home and the grocery store, or home and wherever the family deems to drag the unwilling me. I worry about chem trails and radiation and the bad air in the valley and my granddaughter's well being and the drought and legalizing marijuana and the state of my hair. I'm growing my fingernails out but I've got one that splits down the center and has to be trimmed short, so it all seems futile, nine long nails and a stubby one cut down, and it's all done, all this nonsense, to not think about my mom. Because when I do think about her, like right now, I fall apart. If I were alone, falling apart would be welcome. I'm no longer alone and I do not want to have someone trying to 'hug it out' or ask me questions or tsk-tsk and pat my arm or show any kind of response whatsoever to my grief. I want to be let alone. I want to just let it wash over me and get it done with, however many times it takes, however many days or weeks or months or years it takes, I want to feel it and I don't want anyone to interfere or try to take it away. So I'm a closet griever.

I'm trying to mix things up around here, trying to find 'normal'. I'm not entirely settled yet, nearly all of my possessions still reside in boxes in the garage, a terrible thing when the creative itch strikes, and despite best efforts, that box with those things cannot be located. I bought a paper cutter the other day knowing full well I had a paper cutter here -- in a box -- in the garage -- hidden away, and while on another errand looking for something else I couldn't find, I found the lost paper cutter. This is what I deem as clutter. Finding normal is turning out to be more difficult that I thought. I have no friends here. No one to visit during the day. I'm not a telephone person, hell, sometimes I don't even want to chat online, so I'm missing my faraway friends. I miss my old house. Just the house and the general neighborhood, not the nasty neighbors or the drug addicts passing out on the lawn or strange cars blocking my car in the driveway or the constant hum and chatter of the neighborhood echoing down the street. When I dream of being at home, that's where I dream I am. I miss it terribly.

I admit, there is a certain amount of melancholy in all my situations. Blame it on the introversion.

Today, in an effort to break the streak of Nook and living in my pajamas, I'm going to clean up, put on my walking shoes and cruise the neighborhood a bit, buy a little dinner, and then sit at the tea shop and try to 'make friends' like a normal person. Then I'm going to come home fully inspired to make rosemary soap.


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