Smelly

I'm really funny about smells. So while I remember what things, people, and places smell like, and can actually conjure up smells in my mind (or nose, I'm not sure how that works), I am completely oblivious to a few scents, and I absolutely love scented candles, crystals, oils, flowers and herbs. I think I would call myself selectively hyper-scentative. The latter underlined by the fact that one of my worst memories is having to spend an entire 10-hour transatlantic flight next to someone with incredibly stinky feet. I really don't know how normal this is, to be honest with you. Husband-dear only picks up on the really good or the really bad, while judging by the state of the boys' bathroom and bedrooms at the end of the week, they have simply lack any sense of smell entirely.

Sometimes I think I can be best compared to a dog; if something smells really nice, you can catch me standing in one place, taking deep and concentrated sniffs. In fact, if I hadn't received a proper upbringing that included entire chapters on proper behavior and postures, you could probably find me lying on the floor, soaking up the smell a little more. When I think about places, I think about their smells. France, for instance, smells like lavender, mimosa, smoke, and something incredibly sweet and light at the same time. My grandparents' house, although sold years ago when both passed away, smelled like my grandfather's haircream, Eau de Cologne 4711, apples, and the old-fashioned wax my grandmother used. I could go on like that endlessly. Georgia has an odd thick smell in the summer. It's as though the air is too humid to hold any delicate smells. But on days that the humidity drops, the outside smells sweet and musky. Our house usually smells like the apple-cinnamon candles we burn, although as of last weekend, it smells more like fresh paint, which really messes up my sense of smell.

Unfortunately, I can smell nasty things just as well. If someone hasn't cleaned their bathroom recently for instance, it's like death on a stick. And I'm sure that those of you who live in a hot place like Georgia can relate to the smell produced by someone who has dogs, shuts up their house because of the airconditioning, and then doesn't vacuum and clean regularly. It's terrible.

But, and this is the funny thing, my nose is completely unable to smell a few select scents. Scents that could be potentially embarrassing. Such as my own body odor. Or my two dogs. In fact, I love the smell of my little puppies. The whole inspiration from this blog came a few moments ago when I hugged Shelby and realized how much I loved her little doggie-smell. Husband-dear suffers from the same affliction, but since neither one of us is sure whether other people share our appreciation, we vacuum our house, use "pet odor removal" powder, and wash our dogs on a regular basis anyway.
But the body-odor business is a little more difficult. I realize that talking about body odor is perhaps a delicate subject, one not appropriate to a blog, and I am sure that this was mentioned as part of my proper upbringing, but people, this is a real problem. When you live in a hot, humid climate like I do, an awareness of your own scent is vital. And I mean extremely vital. No one wants to talk, or even stand close to someone who smells like a compost heap in August. Now I'm not saying I'm that bad. God, I sure hope I'm not, but the fact of the matter is that there are many days when I will come home from work, husband-dear will give me a hug, and then pull away with a frown and a "Honey, you're kind of stinky."
Now I do have to admit that husband-dear is one critical man. Especially considering that he is a man. I mean, who has heard of a man who will clean under the stove without you asking? Right, exactly. So perhaps it's him. Because when I perform the "sniff yourself" test, I do realize I may not smell like the fresh lemon scent promised by my anti-perspirant, but I don't think I'm "stinky". But perhaps he is right. And you see, I will never know. It's a scary prospect, one that I try to alleviate by using a lot of deodorant, washing my shirts more than regularly, and, yes, having husband-dear smell me when I'm not entirely sure of my "scent-status". I would hate to think that my lack of friends in this town is in any way related to my level of stinkyness.

So. Now that you all have real pretty pictures in your heads of a stinky DixieChick, it's time for me to replace some of our air freshening crystals. If nothing else, at least our house can smell like a fresh waterfall.