Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

There's just something truly satisfying about working with wool roving and soap. I think it's the patience factor--wrapping the soap takes patience, allowing the wool to dry takes patience, and creating the decorative image takes patience. Being forced to slow down, to not rush through the process is akin to how to live a full life: slowly, savoring it, examining it carefully along the way. As I was working on the three pieces of felted soap this morning, my thoughts turned to my mom. Today marks two years since her death. I think about Mom nearly every day, but my thoughts have been full of her since November, the anniversary for her collapse and subsequent health decline. I didn't fully realize how sad I was feeling during the last few weeks until a friend messaged me via FB, saying she was thinking about me and hoping I was doing okay. The tears came so easily when I read her note, and I finally let them have free rein. Giving in to the sadness felt good, cleansing. ...

Want to feel like a kid? Get a bar of soap and some wool roving and you're on your way. I'd never heard of felted soap until a student wrote about conducting a 4-H workshop on how to felt soap. I had no idea what she was talking about, so I turned to the internet to find out. After reading a couple of how-to's and examining some pictures, I knew this was an activity I really wanted to take part in. Being the anti-washcloth, anti-sponge person that I am, felted soap is exactly what I've been pining away for most of my life. Why it took me so long to learn of this amazing product is a mystery. Once I decide to do something, nothing will stop me following through. I knew I had a couple soap bars languishing on the closet shelf, so that part was easy. After reading many of the how-to's, though, I knew I had no wool roving. Some of the articles suggested using wool yarn. I don't even have that around. Some suggested using an old wool sweater. I don't own a wo...