Bath salts by Johnny Autry
Each October and May, I find myself relying on the kindness of strangers. This owes to the fact that twice annually, I bake, cook, make, or otherwise craft an array of items, label them, drive over to my friend Amanda’s house in Black Mountain, and spend a few glorious afternoon hours giving them away to people I, for the most part, don’t really know.
More accurately, I swap them with other women during her biannual Handmade Swaps. The highly coveted invite arrives a few weeks before the event’s date, requesting that we create a handmade, homemade batch of giftable items, and along with a simple potluck dish to share, come trade, swap, and gift the fruits of our labor.
From freshly laid eggs to jars of home-extracted honey, from framed photographs to aprons, the swap items are as diverse as the women gathered. Spice blends, cough syrup, bug spray, skin cream, herbal tinctures, kefir granules, jam, cocktail bitters, elderberry cuttings—it’s all there. Amanda instructs us to pull a number out of a hat, which determines the order in which we take turns swapping. It’s asked that we bring no more than 10 items in total, and each woman returns home with an equal number of items as she brought. Before the swap portion of the event begins, we take time examining what’s on offer, and then gather together to share details and specifics on what each of us has brought.
The autumn swap, coming as it does rather close to the holiday season, typically finds me in an “others” frame of mind (come the spring swap, I’m in it for myself). I observe what’s being gifted and swapped, and then take some time to consider what might appeal to my loved ones. Does mom need elderberry syrup to get her through cold and flu season? Would my younger sister Theo like that essential oil blend for stress? Could I see my stepmom enjoying that framed photo of a black-eyed Susan? What I put into my swapping basket is largely informed by the impending time of gift giving.
Before the Industrial Revolution and the mass production of items it enabled, not only were the holidays characterized by drastically simpler gift-giving practices, by and large gifts were handmade and homemade. Here in the Smoky Mountains region, where steep, winding roads made access to cheap goods arrive even later than in other parts of the country, holiday gifts were typically small and hand-wrought. Items capable of being stuffed into shoes or stockings were the order of the day.
Despite my best intentions, every time I attend one of Amanda’s swaps, I always find myself looking for the same thing: bath salts. If someone has made bath salts, I make a beeline for them when my number is called. As simple as they are special, a hot soak in a naturally scented bath can feel like a luxury of the tallest order when your life is bustling and the days feel tremendously long. This holiday season, I invite you to mix up a batch of your own. Whether you opt to package them in a decorative jar as a gift or horde the entirety for yourself is completely up to you. Either way, don’t be a stranger to the simple splendor of handmade comforts.
About the author: Candler, N.C., homesteader Ashley English is the author of seven books. See smallmeasure.com.
Flower Power Bath Salts
You Will Need
2 ½ cups Epsom salt
2 cups baking soda
1 cup sea salt
10 drops lavender essential oil
10 drops rosewood essential oil
10 drops sandalwood essential oil
2 tablespoons dried lavender buds
2-3 tablespoons dried rose petals
To prepare:
1) Place everything except for the lavender buds and rose petals into a food processor or blender. Process until the mixture is uniform in size and texture. Transfer the mixture to a medium-size bowl.
2) Add the dried flowers and stir with a metal spoon until everything is fully combined.
3) Store the prepared bath salts in a covered jar until ready for use. When ready (or for gifting purposes), place about ¼ cup into a small muslin bag (you can find these at natural food stores, often in either the body care or bulk tea sections). Secure the top of the bag, and place into the bath while it is filling.