The Morning News

I finally slept a full night's sleep, not the restless flopping from edge to edge in the bed, trying to find a better position, trying to wake up a dead limb, or bolting up from an unrepeated bump in the night, or worse, a worry turned nightmare. No. Last night was peaceful and quiet and I actually slept until the alarm went off, despite the fact that I'd left my window open all night, an invitation to the zombies to creep in and wreak havoc. That's okay. I have a machete for that. Teddy Machete. We cuddle every night. Wow, that sounds creepy!

I have been working on a foodie project the past few days and I'm a little behind in delivery. I tried to get all fancy pants and ended up just botching the whole mess and had to begin again from scratch. Tonight I will attempt to finish off the project and then the goods will be shipped priority on Thursday (fingers, toes, and whathaveyou crossed). The problem, it appears, is timing. There is a specific amount of time required before the next step can be done, but if too much time is spent in a later phase, it causes settling and then it's a pain and sometimes impossible to finish without mutilating the end result.Cryptic, isn't it? I finally found my groove, though, after deciding to smoke out the house with Nathaniel's 'Classical Kyphi' and playing Cole Fonseca's Lazarus really loud on the boom box. They still call 'em boom boxes, don't they? Hi fi? Stereo? Gramophone? Whatever. It seems to have worked the kinks out of the process.

Anyway, I've been thinking about my friend T for a while now. Haven't spoken to her in months and I feel bad about that. I miss her voice. The problem is that I have been holding back on her, vital (in my life) information that I feel she wouldn't approve of, and I do so honor her opinion. I feel like I've grown away from who I was a few years ago and I'm not so afraid to let the 'secret' out; I'm ready to come clean and let the chips fall where they may. It can't be any worse than this avoidance.

I am moving in October to Atascadero. That is if the kid who's living with me gets her crap in one basket and finds a place to live here in Fresno by then. That's the plan. Subject to change. As usual. I've struggled here in Fresno long enough, long enough to realize that the business I'm in will never make me the living I've worked so hard for these past 16 or so years if I stay here. Fresno is an odd city, host to over half a million residents, the 5th largest city in California, 34th in the nation, yet it feels like there is no one here. Except those zombies, of course. No one here who has even the slightest idea what a natural perfume is, what kyphi is, the joys of perfumery, none of it. Apathy is rampant. However, having said that, I'm quite certain that once I get going on the central coast, setting up classes and perhaps, eventually, setting up shop, people from Fresno will travel to the coast to attend classes and shop in the shop. I feel hopeful that becoming a destination instead of a place to escape from will be a refreshing change from what I've been dealing with thus far. Even this past weekend while in SLO I spoke to a young lady in a soap shop who was encouraging and said, "Oh, you'll do really well over here."  Well, one hopes. If not, there's always the pokey-ass internet shop.

Speaking of the pokey-ass internet shop, I have a new soap up on The Scented Djinn Etsy Apothecary, Sylvan Dreams, a recycled name but not a recycled soap. It's the balsam fir number I wrote about previously. It's really nice. I gave a few bars to my son a week or so ago and when I went to visit him he had a bar in the shower that I used -- I was impressed by my own work, will wonders never cease? I actually thought it was someone else's soap! I kept looking at it, rolling it over and over in my hand, smelling how intense and gorgeous the scent was, thinking, "Did I make this?" Turns out I did.