How We Make Soap continued

That is our soapmaking in a nutshell. I could elaborate and go on for pages, but I would rather encourage you to close your eyes and envision our little two-acre farmette nestled in southern Oregon's Rogue River Valley.

Picture Charlie tilling the vegetable and flower beds, digging irrigation ditches, mowing, or doing the books. I would be caring for the flowers, vegetables, fruit trees, or honey hives, or in the heart of the kitchen using everyday, not so fancy utensils, making a batch of soap or lotion. My mom wouldn't be far away. I need Mom's magic touch to stir until trace, marble the cinnamon rosemary, or tie those raffia bows. Clarissa, the artist and musician, would be printing or designing labels when she is not writing a song. Kristen - now that's another story. How she gets away with it, I don't know, but she never seems to be around when soap is to be made or wrapped. She prefers cutting wood and using the weed eater, quoting Shakespearean insults as she goes. Kristen is always present, however, when the goods need to be tested, and boy, can she give us feedback!

It all works and comes together because love and respect are at the foundation of this enterprise, with the intention to do good. My children's music in the background, Mom constantly encouraging me with her words, "You can do it," the glorious smell of Charlie's gumbo on the stove - my husband who stands in front of, beside, and behind me in all I do.

This is Hummingbird, where our home comes to you in a bar or a jar. Welcome to the family.