Eight Hotel Soaps Make a Bar

Beau-Hunkly reports to Westover Air Force Base one weekend every month.

He used to hang out at the Airman's club with his military buddies, enjoy off-base fine dining in Chicopee, and shop the PX for wardrobe updates.  To be honest, he might have been having fun, but it was kind of expensive.

When the Fortin Budget Bill of 2014 was enacted, it took a few months for him to adjust his spending, but Beau-Hunkly has finally straightened up and is flying right.

He steals the travel-size toiletries from his hotel room.

The first month he came home with his mini treasures, I was under-whelmed.

He dumped 2 ounce containers and small bars of soap from a plastic bag onto the kitchen table and then stepped back with hands spread wide.

"Tah Dah!" he exclaimed.  "Soap, lotion, and mouthwash, oh my."

I made him put them back in the plastic bag.  Later, I hid them in the back of my closet.  I was perplexed.

This went on for three months, until the bag was getting pretty full.

Then one morning, I ran out of hand lotion.  20 minutes later my hands were soft as a baby's bottom.  (Thank you large bag of travel-size pilfered toiletries.)

Next, I ran out of hair conditioner.  (Thank you large bag of travel-size pilfered toiletries.)

When we ran out of liquid hand soap last week, I shoved a bunch of minisoap into the container, added water, and told the kids that the luxury of soap from a pump was back.  (Thank you large bag of travel-size pilfered toiletries.)

This morning at 5:00 am, Beau-Hunkly was transferring small bottles of body wash into the empty container.  It gave him great joy.

He goes back to base next weekend so we can restock the plastic bag.  We're running a little low on the products we use most, but we do have a surplus of shower caps and shoe polish kits if anyone is interested.

Adventures in Vinegar

I work with a guy that makes his own cleaning chemicals.  From scratch.  And cheap.  He buys spray bottles wholesale.  He stores great big vats of vinegar in his garage.  He thinks his creations are an art form.

Bob cleans for a living, so he is able to apply his creative output to the stains, spills, odors and splatters of the apartment community I manage.  The hallways and common spaces of Riverside Village are his test kitchen and there is plenty of opportunity.

He reminds me of The Mad Professor when he talks about how much money he is saving the property with his natural cleaning supplies and how good they work, so I thought I would give it a try.

My experiment started with window cleaner.  Cleaning windows hasn't been my thing in over four years, but it seemed like a good place to start.  It's spring, after all, and all the good housewives wash their windows.

I mixed and measured and transferred the liquid into a spray bottle.  Spilling half of it on the floor was not intentional, but my hardwood was glowing by the time I got it all cleaned up.

I headed for the first window, but quickly realized that since paper towels haven't been in the budget for at least 5 weeks, cleaning the windows was going to be difficult.  The non streak formula only works if you wipe the glass clean after application.

As I headed back to my kitchen laboratory, I began to realize how bad vinegar smells.

Son II was making a sandwich.  "It reeks, Mom." He said between mouthfuls.  " I can't eat in here." He took his plate to the living room.

He was right, the kitchen smelled like a pickle factory.

"I will persevere!" I shouted after him.

I started in on the homemade grout cleaner - vinegar, baking soda and a splash of lemon juice.  Bob told me the secret is to let it sit for 15 minutes, so after I applied it to the bathroom floor, I returned to my kitchen.

"Gawd, Mom," Son II told me.  He was back in the kitchen eating peanut butter out of the jar.  With his finger.  "When are you going to stop?  It smells disgusting."  

"I won't stop until it's clean," I tell him.  He smiles from behind the gallon of milk he is chugging.

I mixed up a shower head cleaner compound while trying to breath through my mouth.  Was I getting a headache from vinegar fumes?

I stirred and shook, and then I read the final direction.  "Pour liquid into plastic bag and attach to shower head with a rubber band."

By the time I got that sucker tied up to the shower head, the mixture was all over my shirt and hair.  In my haste to wash the vinegar out of my eye, I stepped in the grout cleaner so my socks were now soaked with vinegar.   Smelled awful, even with a splash of lemon.

I decided it was about time to launder my pickle factory clothes and call it a day.  I remembered Bob telling me that adding vinegar to the washing machine is a natural freshening agent.  Good.  Call that final experiment #4.

Freshly showered and smelling much better, I sat down on the coach next to our beloved dog.  She gave me a big wet sloppy kiss.  From the smell of it, she has been drinking vinegar from some spill I didn't get cleaned up.