Things that please

 

Things that please

Often, it’s the small details that make something different and special.

I discovered that we had almost run out of soap recently. I searched feverishly through my drawers, where I store soap bars, but there were none to be found, so I sent away for some.

The Little Soap Company started life in the Cotswolds. Its original name was the Naked Soap Company and the founder, Emma Heathcote-James, created her first soaps in her kitchen and started selling them at local farmers’ markets. That was more than fifteen years ago, and her business has gone from strength to strength. Her soaps can be found in supermarkets, pharmacies and online.

The soaps arrived securely packaged in recyclable materials. The scent, as I unpacked them, was sensational (yes, that’s a pun!) If one were susceptible to strong perfumes, the package might be overwhelming, with the concentration of many bars, although I didn’t find them so. Individually, the soaps are pleasantly perfumed.

I am aware of how scents can sometimes be too much. I bought a scent diffuser a few weeks ago that had such an overpowering smell – all natural ingredients! - that it made my throat sore. I had to put it at the end of the garden, and even at a distance of about twenty yards, I could still smell it.

The little thing on the box of soap that really made me smile was the packing tape, shown at the top and below.

It depicted scenes of bucolic bliss, bringing to mind the rolling Cotswold hills, the sparkling streams and the honeyed tones of the buildings.

                                    Essential information.

 I know that Alison in Devon, (once upon a time in Wales) makes her own soap. Does she sell locally, I wonder?

Bar or cake?

 

Bar or cake? 

I put some new soap in the cloakroom earlier. The soap already in there was looking grimy, with great dark fissures in it. When I was teaching, I always insisted that soap should be washed after use. If the dirt from hands remains on the surface of the soap, all too soon deep cracks appear.

Obviously, I haven’t been insisting strenuously enough – or even at all! - at home. It’s no good saying, ‘It’s clean dirt’ – that is, from the garden soil – the effect will be the same.

 Why does soap get like that? I found this, which explains it more clearly than I can:-

Soaps are simply mixtures of sodium or potassium salts derived from fatty acids and alkali solutions during a process called saponification. Each soap molecule is made of a long, non-polar, hydrophobic (repelled by water) hydrocarbon chain (the "tail") capped by a polar, hydrophilic (water-soluble) "salt" head. 

Because soap molecules have both polar and non-polar properties, they're great emulsifiers, which means they can disperse one liquid into another. When you wash your dirty hands with soap and water, the tails of the soap molecules are repelled by water and attracted to oils, which attract dirt. 

The tails cluster together and form structures called micelles, trapping the dirt and oils. The micelles are negatively charged and soluble in water, so they repel each other and remain dispersed in water—and can easily be washed away.

Not only should soap be rinsed after use, it should be patted dry with a cloth. Otherwise, it should be left to air-dry, which is what I and I guess most people do, or have I been living in ignorance all my life? Another suggestion is not to leave it in a wet or humid area, so make sure your bathroom is well-ventilated, preferably with a stiff breeze blowing through it. 😉

As I removed the disgusting-looking but pleasantly scented soap to be used where it would not give visual offence, and replaced it with fresh-smelling clean lavender soap, I pondered why some people speak of bars while others insist on cakes of soap. Was there a difference and did it matter?

The short answer was that the only difference lies in the shape of the soap. A bar of soap is rectangular or oval while a cake of soap is moulded into shapes that look like little cakes, but can also be rectangular or oval. Some are formed into little hearts or shells or animals. 

I think, also, that cakes of soap are usually smaller than bars of soap. So-called ‘guest soaps’ are usually unfeasibly small and are of little use for more than a delicate dip in the water. 

 Another source informed that a cake of soap is an old-fashioned name for a bar of soap. It may have arisen because soap was manufactured in large bars. The required length was then cut off, just as a cake is sliced. In the same way, we have ‘bars of chocolate’ and ‘gold bars’.

Washing my hands

I used to joke that my hands were twenty years older than the rest of me because I washed them so often. Now I think they’re more like fifty years older. 

Apart from the usual handwashing rituals following ‘comfort breaks’ or ‘bathroom visits’ (quaint expressions, eh?) I’ve always washed my hands after handling animals, including small children. Working with young humans sharpens one’s observational acuity and it’s hard to avoid noticing where their fingers are going and what they’re doing. You can’t see dirt, right? Well, obviously, sometimes you can but you know what I mean.

I wash my hands before preparing food and again afterwards. I wash my hands after blowing my nose (I wish doctors would!) and I’m doing a lot of that now since Barry kindly shared his cold with me. After I’ve loaded washing in the washing machine or filled the dishwasher I wash my hands. Just put out the rubbish? Wash your hands! If I handle money (filthy lucre!) time to wash. Travelling on public transport or opening doors to public buildings – shops, for example – causes an outbreak of hand-washing. Naturally I can’t always access soap and water so I carry hand wipes for those occasions. Sometimes I avoid the problem by using my elbows.

In the last couple of months I’ve developed a worrying habit. Since we do most of our shopping online we have a lot of deliveries. When I go to the door to accept the parcel, frequently I’m asked to ‘sign for it’. This makes me think I should be performing some elaborate ritual mimicry involving fingers in unusual combinations but actually involves grasping a pen attached to a clipboard or more usually a miniature screen display and scrawling an unintelligible signature. Then I have to wash my hands. I know it’s illogical but I can’t stop myself.

When I was teaching I used to encourage the children to wash their hands at appropriate intervals. Then I would remind them to ‘wash the soap.’ Some of them understood immediately the reason for that – maybe their mothers had the same rule. The rest looked incredulous but obeyed anyway. (Oh, the power!)

More tales from the Land of Clean can be found here and here

What foibles or compulsions do you have and are you willing to share them?

Microfiction Monday #68

Lovely Susan from ‘Stony River’ organises and hosts this weekly meme. Thank you Susan J She provides a picture and the challenge is to create a story in 140 characters or less – including punctuation! Click here to read more marvels of microfiction – and perhaps join in. It’s fun!

Here is this week’s picture followed by my offerings.

‘See, Jim,’ said Tom. ‘You can have a nice warm bath first and then you can use the ring on your chair. That’ll ease your haemorrhoids!’

(136 characters)

You told me there’d be treasure from that wreck – gold bars and bullion. A bar of soap won’t make my fortune, only bubbles.

(123 characters)