life goal: infamous recluse
Back in the summer of 2023, I had been pouring through the Early English Books Online database (as one does), and came across William Salmon's Polygraphice (1673)--within which I found the following: "VI. To rectifie the Breath..."
I had for some time wondered what would happen when my various apothecary nonsense things went bad. I sometimes had things that turned out strange, and some things that didn’t set right and turned out gross, but eventually the day did come when I had something TURN BAD from OLD AGE.
So remember that time. When I thought it was a good idea. To try and make a new soap in the later hours of my evening.
Or apothecary, same difference.
As I sit here with the luxurious scent of soap I bought in London gently wending its way from betwixt the too-weak atoms of the quart-sized freezer bag I've unceremoniously shoved them into, I think to myself: Yes, good, *this* is the atmosphere I need to relay more *Soap Adventures.*
Katherine Crighton 