When I started to make soap, the first batch I made successfully was a variation on a Castile Soap, using only an Orange Valencia Essential Oil for fragrance. I was striving for a simple, gentle formula, particularly because my intended recipient was my father-in-law, Julius.
He and I had always been kindred spirits in some ways, and he was one of the most amazing people I have ever had the fortune to meet. He was kind, gentle, curious about how things worked, and he loved his family more than anything else. When I talked about learning to make soap, he was all ears. Picture a long-haired old hippie, experimenting in his shop with everything from solar and wind power solutions to moonshine. Julius was a tinkerer; he had a gift with small engines, he could craft bonsai from any cutting, he knew a little bit about just about everything. We shared a love of Mother Earth News, and he would listen to me go on about self-sustainability and crazy gardening plans when everyone else would just politely smile and nod. He was a wonderful grandpa to our three boys, and we all loved him very much.
Just as I was about to embark on my soap-making adventure, Julius was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. He would be starting an aggressive treatment plan of both chemotherapy and radiation, and as we learned about all the possible side-effects of his treatments, one major one was skin issues. Julius was a man who had worked outside all of his life, he already had skin issues from long-term sun exposure, with thin, dry skin which was easily damaged.
One of Julius' greatest pleasures all his life was taking a bath. Always a bath guy, not the shower. So I decided to make a soap that might help his skin. I researched what type of soap might be most beneficial for him to use, and came across a recipe for a Castile Soap, made from 100% Olive Oil.
Well, my first attempt was a disaster. I used a rosemary/lemongrass essential oil blend, with rosemary and marigold petals mixed into the batch. The soap looked gorgeous in the mold, and smelled magnificent. I still don't know exactly what happened, it all went according to plan until I went to cut the soap. It was hard as a brick, and crumbled so badly it was completely unusable. I read up on what might have happened; maybe I made it too lye-heavy? I tried to rescue the batch by remelting and adding oil in the crockpot, to no avail. I probably could have used the botched mess as laundry soap, but my husband, who also has sensitive skin, said no way, just to throw it out. So I asked Julius what he thought, and he said to try again, maybe a different recipe, something less complicated? I asked him what scent he thought I should use; I had a yummy smelling orange, would he like that? Sure thing, he said. So spirits lifted, I decided not to give up, and I went back to the drawing board. I found a proper lye calculator, and I came up with a new recipe that left less room for error. I decide to leave out colors and botanicals for now, so I kept it simple as Julius suggested.
Voila! When I unmolded the soap, it was perfect! Consistent color and scent, it cut like soft cheese like it was supposed to, and I could not be more excited! I started counting down the days until it had cured enough to test.
By now, Julius was feeling the effects of his treatment pretty badly. He had shaved his head and developed a bad case of cradle-cap. We had a bad scare at Christmas time, and Julius was hospitalized. He had to have brain surgery to remove a large mass, and he had some memory issues. As soon as he was feeling better, I gave him my soap to use. I also had made and tested some bath fizzies, which I thought he might enjoy. I felt like these were the smallest possible gestures when he was going through so much, but he was genuinely delighted. So I made another soap, to give him something new to look forward to.
My new batch of soap was ready at Easter, and though Julius was feeling terrible. He had decided to discontinue treatment, and we didn't know how much time he would have left. I gave him my soap, not knowing if he would even be able to use it. Throughout that day, he kept picking it up to smell it and telling me how much he loved it.
Sadly, we lost Julius that Wednesday. My mother-in-law has told me numerous times how much Julius loved my soap, and would be excited to see me taking this venture to the next level. When I thought about how to go about branding/labeling my soaps, I knew that I would always make the first soap that he loved so much, simple and unassuming, yet gentle and uplifting, just like Julius. Funny that it was an orange scent, but I would probably get sued if I called it 'Orange Julius', so why not just name it after him? And all the other soaps I have made since after other people or names that inspired me? Even after his passing, Julius has kept me motivated to try new things and remain persistent in my pursuits.
I hope anyone who picks up one of my 'Julius' products experiences the same lift in spirits that he always gave me, and that his story inspires others to be creative as well. 'Julius' is available as a bar soap, salt scrub, or solid lotion bar via my Southern Hedgewitch Etsy page.
