The Story 

Why horses and why bay?

Hey there! I'm Amy. I've owned, ridden, doctored, sworn at, cried over and generally tolerated horses for over half of my many years on this big ol' carousel ride we call Earth. 

My current steeds are Thomas, aka Thomas the Good Horse, aka Thomas Aquinas in his showing days, aka He's Proud from his race horse days (insert proud cut joke here). I say, unashamedly, he is my favorite horse *ever*. He's brave, more or less trustworthy and in the 17 years I've owned him, he's only launched me once. Not that I hold a grudge, but it was October, 6 years ago and my hands were on the buckle. At 27, he is officially and deservedly retired. He spends his days bossing around his little herd of donkeys, and letting my friend's two young girls practice their "vet skills" on him. He's grown into a very, very patient soul.

Leila, aka Leila, is the young one, at the tender age of 7. She is the result of a midlife crisis which insisted I buy a baby horse. Having been slightly soured on the work ethic of Warmbloods (the non-existent, I will try to buck you off if you try to make me work, work ethic) the only requirements were it had to be half Thoroughbred and a gelding. Because Thoroughbreds are mighty and love to work. A gelding, because that means it's not a mare. Introduce a half TB mare (can't win them all). The other half is Trakehner. Or as my vet says "a combination of the two most @$$**** breeds out there". I love my vet. I'd like to defend her, however....

Both are bay.

So where in the good name of George Morris does soap come in?

A friend of mine found Pinterest and called me said "we need to make soap". I replied "Soap? Okay?". We made soap and it was fun. Then we went out for margaritas and tacos and that was even more fun. 

It was an experiment, quickly forgotten about.

Fast forward several years.....

Same friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was talking about how sensitive she had become to scents and chemicals, even to the gentlest commercial soaps. "Wait, soap? I can make you soap!".

So I made soap. And then I remade soap, because I messed it up the first time. Soap has a learning curve that, somehow, we aced the first time out. For mysterious (OCD, perfectionist) reasons the soap fail hooked me on the process. I made more soap, and my friend happily became my number one product tester.

I continued to try to perfect my technique, and managed to come up with some halfway decent looking bars and some fabulous recipes. I'll never be a Grand Prix soap artisan, but Baby Greens--I'm looking at you. 

Eventually, I had quite a stockpile of nice (and not so nice) soaps, that I started giving away. Which inevitably leads to the "you should start a business and sell this!", which then reminds me of my failed cake decorating businesses--uggh don't ask.  Stressed "you have deadlines" Amy, is Angry "don't let me near sharp objects" Amy. Even if cake is involved. 

Then the idea of combining my horse background with my new found soap making skills popped into my head. Suddenly, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. My goal is to stay small, local, underwhelmed and always have time to hack out the mare.

Stay clean and enjoy the ride, my friends.

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