Heigh Ho

What the hell have I gotten myself into? 

This is the question that personifies my life, in all of its phases, from childhood to today. I've spent the past three hours poring over notes and edits and questions from an outside 'auditor' of the new course, and, 'lo and behold, there's a new damn teacher's manual for the new damn course being developed! I so did not want to be writing a tome right now, just as school starts for the godlings (stole that from Stacey Patton), a new course is scheduled to begin at NPA, and all while I'm preparing products for the autumn line-up. Just dip me in poop and roll me in cracker crumbs, I'm done. 

Not really.

I'm never done. NEV'AH! However, I am a little overwhelmed. The custom soap job went south on the first try. Too much alcohol in the oil menstruum caused the whole mess to seize before I got all the lye/water solution in, so I had to improvise (there's that word again), and ended up with a half gallon or so of fatty liquid soap, and two scummy soap balls with poppyseeds (I use poppyseeds to confuse people in my work -- if you're confused, that means it's working -- heh). Thankfully I've got a few pounds of the alcoholic oil left to work with, and I'm going to do a few things to wring that alcohol out so I don't end up with more liquid soap and balls of confusion. 

Working on those notes has brought a few things to light -- I can clearly see where in this new course I got lazy and phoned it in. There aren't many, maybe two places, where I really dropped the ball. I'm sorting it all out in the new teacher's manual. Geez, every time I see or think that phrase, teacher's manual, my bum hits the floor and drags a little. 

Back to work I go!