Thursday, May 17, 2012

scent with lurve

through the marvels of modern medicine i have my nose back. i am sure it is but temporary but i'll take what i can get. there is a heavy silence that prevails when one's nose is out of whack. in my case, there is a serious disconnect from comfort and soul. it sounds awfully dramatic and i'm going to put myself out there and say it is.

stepping out the back door with orange laundry bucket in hand i was greeted by a blast of the summer-like sun. the traffic on Highway 1 speeding by in a rush played a background song as i was suddenly greeted by the sweet warm scent of sidewalk and grass. i simply stopped in my movement, put the bucket down, clasped my hands together, closed my eyes and inhaled a mighty breath. never knowing how long it will last, i danced into action. orange bucket discarded on the back sidewalk by the new makeshift birdbath, i abandoned it all and ran back into the tiny casa. another deep inhale gave me the sweet scent of vanilla and sliced apples with a dash of the pikaki i wear on the inside of my wrists. i could detect the steamy scent of the hot iron as it waited patiently for me to get back to work and the sweet cent of the dish soap on the sponge i had just used to wash the morning dishes.

i quickly stuck my head in the pantry and was surprised that instead of onions and stale pantry scents, i was tickled by the spicy sweet calling of star anise. room to tiny room (not that there are many) i skipped and clapped and sniffed and laughed. the bathroom was full of shampoo smells and honey. the bedroom like green tea and vanilla while the living room managed to contain the least happy yet still welcome of scents...cardboard and spackle (we've been hammering things into the walls and those darn boxes may never get cleared away).

out the front door i went, sticking my nose into the thyme, mint  and basil that sit in anticipation of new garden digs. the front sidewalk greeted me with that summery spice and i am certain i looked like a mad women as i brought my new to the carob tree for a sniff.

with a satisfied smile on my face, i walked back into the tiny casa full of the scent of apples and vanilla and finally, for the first time, felt like i was home.

4 comments:

  1. The sense of smell is often taken for granted and underappreciated....think of the smell after it rains, freshly brewed coffee, a donut shop. I love it! The fact that smell can take us back to a certain time in our lives is absolutely amazing (I have an empty duster powder container - I thnk it was Les Printemps -that has kept its scent and whenever I discover it in the drawer, I'll open it up, take a sniff and BAM it's 1985 again!)
    I'm so glad that your sniffer was working and you could take it all in...I'm sure it made the day so much better!

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    1. i'm glad too! and totally drooling over your descriptions of happy scents!

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  2. I couldnt fathom how dissabling not being able to smell would be, congradulations om the new sense of smell!

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    1. aw, thank you! it really is dissabling in a way and i am so happy it is back even if only for a short while. i promise, i do everything i can to get all the good scents in! ;)

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