Ah, 2011 ~ finally!

For some reason, it seemed that the last few days of 2010 lingered. Now that we're into 2011, it feels-- it feels-- the same, really. Exactly the same, only wetter. Much, much wetter. As much as we need the rain here, I am so ready for it to end. At least for a week or two. I just discovered a leak in the studio, in the corner by the printer, away from the blending bench and bottles. Though I love the sound of rain, I'm not thrilled hearing it INSIDE the house. There is a bucket collecting the drops for now, and in a few days (before next Sunday when we expect it to rain again) I'll have someone go up and locate the leak and plug it. Or I may have to put a nice shiny raincoat on the house until the Spring when I can get it professionally cared for. In the meantime, *plop*, *plop*, *plink* (that one hit the side of the bucket) *plop*.

Been a'distillin' since Friday. I asked the Distillation Queen, Ms. D.R., about it taking so long to distill a 2.5 liter batch and though I'm stretching the time way out, she said I'm not messing anything up. I take about 8-12 hours to distill one batch, and I guess if I turned up the heat, I could do it in 3-4 hours. Day one I distilled freshly picked organically grown olive leaves. Day two I distilled rose geranium leaves, also freshly picked, using the olive leaf hydrosol to fill the water chamber. Day three (today), I'm re-distilling the rose g./olive leaf hydrosol with fragrant rose petals and more rose geranium leaves. I hope to get back two liters of super scented triple distilled olive leaf, double distilled rose geranium leaf, single distilled rose petal leaf hydrosol. I promise that won't be the title of the end product ~ ha! So far, so fragrant.

Next up is an infusion of fresh olive leaf into extra virgin organic olive oil which will in turn be made into a balm or butter, or left as an oil. I already have a liter of olive leaf alcohol extract that is super potent -- that too will be added to some skin care this year. I am in the throes of a love affair with olive. Always have been. As a child I'd read books in the arms of an old olive tree, picked olives for curing every season, threw overripe black olives at my sister and brother and watched the purple stains accumulate on their clothes -- the first game of paint ball was played using overripe black olives. Olive juice.

I am reformulating a few perfumes. Atay and Khodum. I don't like them now. Atay's too, too sweet, and Khodum isn't scary enough. So. They get redressed. I don't like that I made a mistake with both of these perfumes and then released them into the world anyway. It shows a lack of restraint on my part, or perhaps exhaustion. Twenty-ten was an exhaustive year. But that is no excuse for making sub-par parfum. I promise to do better.