, , , , , , , , ,

/ by Dr Margaret Aranda /

Taking a bath with two sisters was fun.

There was the warmth of the water, and nothing was more special than pouring in those flakes from the pink box of Mr. Bubble.  They smelled fresh. The flakes were really light in the box; it wasn’t a heavy box at all, and you really could not spill it.


Image 1. The Classic Box of Mr. Bubble. It didn’t leave a bathtub ring,
so perhaps it cleaned the tub.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Just looking at the boy in the tub dazing off into outer space with Mr. Bubble above him: 

Well! That was enough to make me want to take a bath.

Oh! So Fun! 


The soap flakes were a separate entity of themselves.


Image 2. Pure Soap Flakes Feel Waxy. Image Courtesy: PureSoapFlakes.com

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Soap Flake Ducks

by Dr Margaret Aranda

Look at the soap flakes

Rather closely cakes

Yes can’t you see me

Frown complexity?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Apparently this was the start

Blended doctor scientist heart

Bathed in wonder

Here asunder

Microscopic wax flakes turned to liquid then bubbles floating up Up UP!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And that was just the beginning of the bath, for when you got into the tub and watched the soap flakes pour out, something magical and mathematic happened:

When the flakes poured out,

Some of them stuck in the bubbles as an intact flake,

Just sitting there in a curious clump

That would not dissolve.

Simply Fractal.


Image 3. Fractals. Milos Djurik says, ‘Fractals are Forever’

and “Beauty of Complexity.”

There were never any bubbles. That’s why there’s no mention of them and there’s  no picture of bubbles, as only the fractal dimension that they inherently contained was all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Powered by Oxford Dictionaries:




  • 1.a curve or geometric figure, each part of which has the same statistical character as the whole. Fractals are useful in modeling structures (such as eroded coastlines or snowflakes) in which similar patterns recur at progressively smaller scales, and in describing partly random or chaotic phenomena such as crystal growth, fluid turbulence, and galaxy formation.


  • 1.relating to or of the nature of a fractal or fractals:“fractal geometry”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Perhaps this is where her interest in chemistry began.

She got into the tub and the bubbles departed, moving left and right to dispel their presence from her invasive steps. She was immersed with the bubbles.

Once she sat in the water, the two sisters would be talking, yacking yackity-yacking and throwing things too, of course. But there was a problem: they always wanted to play one game or another. Hide toys under the water, fill the toys with water, or float them on top of the water. She didn’t want to do that.

If she was the first one in the tub, something she tried to do. Since the others were slower and not really aware of her goal, she could usually be the first one in the tub.

Once she sat down ever so carefully, she simply listened.

She closed her eyes and sat back,

head on the cold and rounded edge of the tub.




Glistening.  Popping.  Microscopic pops.
So tiny, so minute were these pops, and there were so many of them that there must have been thousands and thousands of them popping in one accord, each off step yet still on beat.

Pop! Pop! Poppity-Poppity-Pop! Pop! Pop!  

Mmmmm.  It was the only time she could be by herself to listen to the relaxing and mesmerizing sound:

Poppity-Poppity! Pop!

There goes another one!


Poppity-Poppity-Poppity Pop!

 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That was a Cascade!

by Dr Margaret Aranda

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


It just went on and on and on

Thousand stars popping song

Mountain air fireplace dawning

Fall night wind softly howling

Owls silently crawling under their wings so fine

Comfort stimulation both at once

Relax hot matter popping clatter twice

Water cools no fractal energy

Just add warm waterfall synergy

Recipe for a Cascade of Fractals in time

The sound reverberated in her brain, sending chemical release of encephalons and endorphins. The morphine-like molecules relaxed her muscles, increased her pupil size, generating awareness of her surroundings. Hyperacute sensations abounded, listening with wide eyes as thousands of little tiny bubbles danced in the hot waters, each one clamoring to be:

“The Next One to Burst.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And over time, the wave of a mountain of a bubble diminished in size. The volume of the bubble bath decreased, and then sound slowed down:

Pop..  Pop..  pop…

…       p          …  po…


There were only a few lazy bubbles left, slow ones in slower motion than a cloud that doesn’t even float… and the other two sisters opened the curtain and complained,

“Mom! There aren’t any bubbles left!”

She turned the hot water back on, as the bath temperature was not quite so cozy now.  The bubbles stopped making their Popping sound, the water was tepid, and it was time to restore the mood.  So down went more bubble flakes, tumbling down from the pink box, tumbling down,
                         and down and
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Again, the bubbles were packed with little flakes of flakes of bubbles that did not have either the time nor the inclination to well, to form a bubble.  So bubbles in all stages of life stood still, while other bubbles ending their lives went Pop! and pop (with a Blah) and soon, once again… it was inevitable… there were no bubbles left.
But she knew that all she had to do was to pour the flakes from the pink box back into the hot water, and splash them about a bit to make more mountains form.  It was a cycle, kind of like waking up in the morning and then going back to sleep at night.  The same steps repeated themselves again.  Night and day, morning and night, bath after bath until one day, she took a shower instead.
A shower is faster than a bath.
…and she did not have to share the shower with another sister, so, well,over time, she learned that the advantages outweighed the complaints, and she grew to prefer a shower.  Over time, she forgot about the bubbles until once again, one day when the Pop! pop – Pop! pop – Pop Pop, Poppity-Popp! echoed in some part of her brain.
She closed her eyes and smelled that pink smell, heard the Pop! Poppity – Pop! Pop! Poppity – Pop! again, and she smiled ever so slightly as she put a soft towel under her knees.  Then she leaned over to turn off the water as the little toddler stuck his hand in the bubble that carried the most volume.  Again and again, the toddler smashed the biggest bubble and seemed unaware of those silent, thousands and thousands of Pop! Pop! pop! Poppity – Pop! Pops! that once again echoed to fill her entire world.
But she did not miss the sound, as she heard it all.
It brought her back to where she used to be.
And when the bubbles faded and the water became cool, she turned the water on again, letting hot water madly proudly boisterously clamor atop the flakes.  And she poured more flakes from the pink box and watched as once again, the bubbles were saturated and the extra bubbles simply hung on to the biggest bubbles that existed as long as they possibly could.
And she thought,

“How fine is this, that her son gets to play

in the same bubbles

as I did when I was young?”

And she poured more flakes into the warm water.