What Happens When You Keep Making Meaningful Things in a Season That Doesn’t Make Sense

Liz Bigda
Dec 29, 2025
6 min read

Our family began 2025 still navigating housing instability, and with that, our soap business remained on the back burner longer than we ever expected. We entered this season of uncertainty in August of 2024, and while the details of our home life remain private, its impact on our family and our work has been very real.

This season created clear limitations for our small business. It forced us to slow down, adapt, and make careful decisions about what truly mattered. It also brought out a familiar trait of mine: stubbornness. I never once considered closing shop. I just wasn’t sure how to move forward yet.

When space is limited and inconsistent, what you hold onto has to matter. And our family business matters.

One of the most meaningful choices we made during this time was to pause and rebrand. Oregon Coast Soaps (formerly Smug Dog Soaps) reflects who we are now: the same handmade bars, continually improving, but more deeply grounded in place.

Because of our space constraints, we made fewer soaps this year than we once imagined. Still, every bar was made with grit and intention. Some were longtime favorites, some were built around a theme (I adore a theme), and some were simply made because a story was ready to be told. All of them were made by hand, with care.

I carry a nearly endless list of stories I hope to turn into soap one day. I find them everywhere, from tiny banana slugs (keep an eye out for this one in 2026) to towering Big Leaf Maples. Many of those stories are still waiting their turn, but I’m encouraged by what we were able to create under trying conditions.

Why We Made What We Made

A Month-by-Month Look at Our Soaps

June | Midsummer Scandinavian Festival

June brought our local Midsummer Scandinavian Festival, which I absolutely adore. Missing this festival would have been one too many losses, both for the longevity of our business and for me personally. So I applied to be a vendor for our second year in a row and began planning what felt impossible.

It wasn’t pretty, and it certainly wasn’t some endearing family project, but it gave new meaning to “where there’s a will, there’s a way.” With the help of my family, I created a soap and story inspired by each country represented at the festival:

Denmark - The Raiding Cucumber
Finland - Troll Milk
Iceland - Kelping Hand
Norway - Hearth & Hive
Sweden - The Sudsy Swede

(Some may still be available on our website.)

July | This Way to Oregon

July brought back our very first soap from our Smug Dog Soaps days, now known as This Way to Oregon. While hot process soapmaking (our original format for soapmaking) isn’t realistic in our current living situation, it mattered to us that the heart of this bar stayed the same. So the process remained, the story was refreshed, and the recipe was upgraded to our new base. It remains one of my personal favorites and carries a story of favor for those willing to put in the work. (To read this story click here.)

August | Salty Sea Lion

August was all about The Salty Sea Lion. If you know me, you know a soap honoring our favorite coastal water dogs was inevitable. This solid, cleansing bar is made with kelp powder and an essential oil blend of lavender, rosemary, and peppermint. (To read this story click here.)

September | Coastal Rainforest

September brought our Coastal Rainforest Bar, a reinvention of our longtime best seller, Sir Douglas of Fir. This version leans fully into my love for our local forests and was revised only with the approval of Vincenzo, since this is his all-time favorite. It’s made with actual coastal rain, and if you love this bar, keep an eye on future batches. Vincenzo has notes.

October | Pumpkin & Big Leaf Maple

October was my yearly pumpkin bar, because yes, I am that person. This year, I paired it with my newest obsession: Big Leaf Maple syrup. Native to the Pacific Northwest, this syrup is savory rather than sweet and difficult to harvest, which made it especially meaningful to work with.

November | Peppermint Hot Cocoa

November gave us a break from storytelling. Rob said the world needed more peppermint hot cocoa soap, so I made one for him. The look isn’t everything I wanted, but the scent absolutely is. Fun fact: I’m drinking a peppermint hot cocoa as I write this.

December | Nordic Christmas

December brought Nordic Christmas, a bar especially close to my heart. I wanted the design itself to carry the story, with candlelight represented through the soap. Space limitations affect what I can do visually right now, but this one felt like a small creative victory.

Three Lessons Soapmaking Taught Me This Year

1. Assurance ❤️

I’m no stranger to self-doubt, but this year we got uncomfortably close. It showed up pretending to protect me, whispering caution while quietly shrinking my sense of worth, identity, and calling. It’s startling how quickly instability can do that.

Soapmaking brought me back to solid ground. It is ancient work, rooted in the enduring act of caring for people. In making soap, I’m not just creating a product. I’m connecting myself, my family, and my community to something older and bigger than us, and helping those stories continue.

2. Inheritance ❤️❤️

In harsher times, soapmaking was not a small or casual task. It was hard work, deeply respected, and carefully passed from one generation to the next. When daughters or granddaughters made soap, they weren’t simply producing a bar. They were carrying forward knowledge, memory, and care shaped by those who came before them.

Learning this history has helped me feel connected to those women. Through soapmaking, especially in a difficult and inconvenient season, I feel part of the slow work of remembering and bringing that care back into the everyday.

3. Adaptation ❤️❤️❤️

Before returning to soapmaking, I felt constant pressure to be resilient. To get back on track. To hang in there.

But once I returned to the physical work of making soap, to saponification and ingredients drawn from the earth, I realized I hadn’t lost stability. I had experienced a disturbance.

The cause never weighed on me. What mattered was living inside its uncertainty. This season wasn’t meant to put me back where I had been. It asked me to move forward differently. Soapmaking became a way out of the place I was stuck and a path toward a space where my family can grow in ways we could not have otherwise.

Looking Ahead to 2026

As we step into 2026, we’re carrying forward the lessons this past year taught us about adaptation, care, and continuing to make meaningful things even when circumstances are a lot cruddy.

In the year ahead, we’re excited to keep soapmaking at a steady pace, letting themes and stories guide what we create rather than rushing toward volume. Many ideas are waiting their turn and if there’s something you’d like to see turned into a soap, I’d genuinely love to hear it. Send it my way and I’ll see what I can do.

We’re also looking forward to growing along the way. Since our Smug Dog Soaps days, we’ve had a long-term vision to expand beyond bar soaps (and I use “beyond” loosely, because bar soap is still very much my obsession). That timeline had to stretch and shift, but the plan is still alive, and we hope to share new announcements as the year unfolds.

Most of all, we’re committed to building community. To learn from what came before, respond honestly to where we are now, and move forward in ways that feel grounded, thoughtful, and fulfilling.

We don’t know exactly what the year will bring, but we’re excited to find out. And we’re deeply grateful to everyone who chooses to follow along.

Closing Thought 💭

As we move forward, our hope is to stay in touch in a way that feels steady, thoughtful, and encouraging. Beginning in the new year, you can expect to hear from us about once a month. These newsletters won’t be sales-heavy or overly polished. Our hope is that they feel like a meaningful, interesting read, and we truly welcome your feedback on what you’d like to hear more about.

Community matters deeply to us. And it’s important for us to say clearly: you don’t need to purchase soap to be part of what we’re doing here. Participation can look many different ways. You might read our stories, share a thought, send an idea, or join us in a seasonal reflection or activity. You’re also welcome to quietly follow along. All of that belongs here.

We’re creating more than soap. We’re creating space for connection, reflection, and care, for God, for the land, and for one another. And we’re grateful to each person who chooses to walk alongside us, however that looks.