smell

In the past two weeks, Husbo and I have become the neighbours from hell for the poor lady next door.  We have unintentionally pissed her off in so many ways with our destructive and disruptive DIY projects, yet she is so determined to maintain a peaceful existence with us, that she has taken it all in her stride.  Last night, however, almost broke that friendly camel’s back, with a big ol’ stick of stink.

As I was bathing the kids, I suddenly got a whiff of what can only be described as ‘wet roadkill’, in the same vein as ‘wet dog’, but with a much more brutal and ‘deceased’ attack on the olfactory senses – how I imagine a zombie would smell.   I immediately accused one of the girls of drowning a brown submarine, but on closer inspection, it was all clear waters and smooth sailing in the tub.  Once they were done and dried, I moved throughout the house, and the odour followed, getting stronger and more vomit inducing with each step closer to the door.  I figured it was some new type of organic fertiliser being thrown about by the neighborhood arsehole.  Turns out, that arsehole was my husband, and it wasn’t fertiliser.

You know the smell of freshly cut grass and how it’s all awesome and shit?  Yeah, well, leave that grass in a wheelie bin for two weeks, slightly damp, then tip it out into an open skip, right outside your bedroom window, and you’ve got yourself a putrid stench that is so far from fresh.  That’s what was happening, and the smell filled our house inside and out and of course it reached our poor suffering neighbour’s nostrils too.  I sent Husbo off with his best apologetic, grovelling face, and a peace offering bottle of wine.  I thought perhaps if she got herself a bit drunk, her sense of smell, just like my inhibitions, might disappear.  I think  she still likes us, but because I can’t go outside yet (the skip is being picked up in an hour), I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing her to discuss such matters.  It’s probably best to stay hidden until the air has cleared…literally.

How can something that starts off so pleasant in nature, turn into the most repulsive odour on the planet?  The same sort of thing happens to me with skin care and fragrance from time to time.  I’m not talking about products going off and smelling a bit iffy, but ingredients that everyone else seems to be OK with, that I just can’t stand to put near my face or body.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say they stink like compost and dog farts, but a touch cat pissy?  You betcha.  Take Jasmine, for example.  It is one of my favourite fragrances in nature.  I have it growing along my fence, and when my front yard isn’t filled with the stench of rotting death, it gives off the most beautiful aroma that wafts into my house at dusk and tickles my nostrils with sweet delight.  But you take that same Jasmine, crush it up and turn into an oil, or whatever, and it is Cat Piss City for me I’m afraid.

I still haven’t learned my lesson though.  My eyes are always drawn to Jasmine on product labels and perfume descriptions, but the minute I spray, or apply it to my skin, I’m reaching for some rubbing alcohol or detergent to scrub the uriney smell off me.  It gives me the shits because there are a bunch of lovely products out there that I desperately want to try, but I feel like I’d be wasting my money on something that could potentially make me smell like a hobo – that was how Husbo once referred to my facial aroma when I was using an amazing organic night cream laced with Jasmine – hobo piss – he was right though, it was definitely reminiscent of a car park stairwell.

Frankincense is another.  AOK for the baby Jesus, but not for my skincare, which is a shame as it’s such an amazing ingredient for calming, soothing and strengthening the skin.  I just can’t stand the way it smells on me.  Maybe it’s a case of divine intervention, and I’m clearly not worthy of using such a heavenly gift.  Bugger it.

 Some other ingredients are a little hit and miss on me too, not always, but sometimes.  Like when coconut oil smells like squashed ants, or when frangipani reminds me more of toilet cleaner than hot summer nights…and what about the eggy old person smell that hemp seed oil can sometimes let off?  It’s just so frustrating.  Even pure, unadulterated rose water, packaged in the most luxurious frosted glass bottle and sold for a small fortune, on me, smells like, you guessed it, cat piss.  Don’t even get me started on seaweed and other algae related gems of the ocean.  It’s like I’ve just opened a tin of sardines, rubbed it over my face and shoved a couple up my nose for good measure…just way too fishy for my delicate senses.  I feel like I’m missing out on so much skin loving goodness that nature has to offer me – it’s just not fair.

Fortunately there a plenty of beautiful products out there for me to buy, but unless I can try a sample, I choose those that don’t contain potentially stinky ingredients.  This is definitely a First World problem and it by no means keeps me up at night, but I would love to know, is it just me, or do any of you struggle with certain ingredients when it comes to smell?

Stinkingly Yours, Pissy Face.

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