On being a super smeller

Maybe "super smeller" is overstepping. I don't have anything official decreeing my smelling status. But, as an adult, I have become increasingly aware that I am sensitive to smells (pleasant and unpleasant) and I process/learn through them, as well.

A couple of nights ago I was struggling to fall asleep.  As I finally began to drift off around 2:30 a.m., I was enveloped by the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Heavenly, comforting and nourishing.

And curious. My mind was aroused enough to wonder: who nearby was quietly grinding coffee at this hour?

Suddenly, the smell morphed. Skunk. Wow. It was so strong that it smelled almost chemical/inorganic. Foreboding. I got out of bed to confirm there was nothing hot in the kitchen. It didn't smell like fire/smoke/burning...it did smell like synthetic heat.

I lay back down and could not get back to that drowsy place. My system was stressed. My receptors had taken in the chemical message loud and clear: fight or flight!

My heart and pulse alternated pounding, fluttering, racing. My eyes were wide open. I was so tired in body, though, so I stayed in bed. Eventually, past 4:30 a.m., sleep came.

Today has been humid. There have been plenty of wonderful breezes, cold and warm fronts competing in relative vicinity bringing dark clouds and scattered showers.

It has been the kind of day where suddenly, in a fit of stillness, sweat would begin to stream.

Since going soap- and shampoo-free a couple of years ago, I have virtually no body odor. I can't remember the last time I used deodorant. Being a super smeller, I have enjoyed noticing the way my body, specifically my arm pits, smell on a day like today.

I wonder what my body, my chemicals, are communicating. Hormones, pheromones, any-other-mones.

This evening my pits smell like semen. How interesting. They have smelled like this before, though not frequently. A bit salty, a bit musky, a scent that screams re/fresh birth/life.

I confess, I have been taking hits of my intoxicating pits.

It's no wonder, really, that, a) the scent of the so-called seeds of life would smell really good; and b) that if you dug a little deeper, semen would contain elements both male and female...so a woman could exude this particular scent.

Lunch

Red leaf lettuce from the farm, a hothouse tomato, nearly the last of the store-bought roasted chicken leftover from common meal...dressed with salt, pepper, a splash of balsamic vinegar and a drizzle of olive oil.  Some slices of Applegate Farm Genoa salami and a new pickle on the side.  Yum.

I forgot to mention that the guac I had for dinner last night I ate with a fork.  No tortilla chips.  I think there was sugar in the glaze of the ribs appie (I ordered two appies: the Garlic Lime ribs and the Pork Belly and Diver Scallops tacos).  I had one rib and shared the rest.  The diver scallops were probably seared in butter or seed oil.  Not sure how the pork belly was prepared...  But, man, they were so good and not much had been done to them.  There's no need with succulent and fresh pork belly and scallops!

I feel pretty good today.  I was physically uncomfortable by the end of the movie, the main source of my discomfort being the scent of someone's perfume.  It was Poison (hello '80s!)  Having some time in the fresh air between the movie and dinner helped me recover.

I had a late night last night (the kids and I watched Next Food Network Star and then I watched True Blood) and then played musical beds and moved into Sag's bed at 4am.  I am a little tired, a little grouchy and can feel a little something in my head...not a headache, but a tightness.

This morning, the kids came with me to feed the rats and then we traveled on to the library.  Coming home with a sack of books is always nice.  I'm currently, and very slowly, reading 11/22/63 but brought home The Year We Left Home, which I read somewhere, was very good.

I'm also having dreamy visions of knitting the o w l sweater after reading Kate Davies' story behind the pattern.  I have long appreciated the pattern from afar and would love to sidle up closer to it.

I am thrilled that the air conditioners are OFF.  I love my air conditioners when it is hot and humid, but truly, there is nothing like the balm of fresh air after a heat wave.  It is in the mid-eighties, but relatively dry.  I'll take it.

You start with what you have

This is what I thought we'd be doing this morning.  Running lots of errands.  Including some to prepare for Gem's birthday weekend.  Which, with all the hubbub of late, has snuck up on me a bit.

But, one of us is under the weather figuratively (Sag) and one of us is under the weather literally (me) and I am letting go of the expectations and rolling with what is, instead.

I am trying to embrace their peaceful ways and be in the present.  I am still recovering from a really icky bringing-in-the-garbage-and-recycling-cans experience where I encountered what smelled like a broken open bag of vomit and somehow ended up with hands that smelled like poop.  One of those times it really sucks to be a super smeller.

Just found this fun tie-in to the kids' study of Mesopotamia.  Oh, and we watched Free Willy: Escape From Pirate's Cove yesterday to tie into Sag's study of dolphins and orcas yesterday.  It was solidly good fare.

Rock out in peace.

The best "plan"

...is to not have a plan at all.

This post resonated with me when I read it last week or the week before.  This morning, I remembered it fondly as I realized the plans I had mentalized for today were not going to happen. 

The process wasn't stressful (as it sometimes is...in which case the post is a must-read).  I don't feel well.  Woke up moving extremely slowly.  My run-of-the-mill low energy tends to burn off within an hour of waking up.  But, what I am contending with today is something else.

Okay, those of you don't want to hear about sex/my sex life, stop reading now.

Last night, I had sex.  And today I am feeling like I sometimes do after a massage.  (It's all good body work in the end if done right...amirite?)  Stagnated and stuck points of energy were busted open and the toxins are now moving around.

Time to drink lots of fluids and flush those suckers out.

I'll be here with my feet up in this juicy organic strawberry-scented room reading Stephen King and drinking my English breakfast tea with honey and coconut creamer.

Salad turnips will be pickled, chicken will be stocked, kitchen floor will be washed...some. other. time.

One bowl

By the time noon rolled around I was definitely hungry.  Which was interesting because:

• I rarely feel hungry

• I ate dinner very late last night (another rare occurrence and no doubt a factor in my active dreaming)

I actually pulled the eggs out of the fridge thinking of quick protein.  It's my go to and I was willing to forgive myself and not stress.  But, I forced myself to slow down a bit.  I pulled out my garlic press from the drawer (how I love my garlic press) and pulled off three cloves from the large head on the counter.  I retrieved the scallions and safflower oil from the fridge.  The ginger joined the garlic on the cutting board.

I had some baby spinach in the crisper waiting for just this moment, apparently.  Everything went into the pot with some coconut aminos and a dash of red pepper flakes.

I washed and dried my favorite bowl which I am beginning to think of as my "one bowl" (still have to read the book!)  The aroma wafting out and around the pot held my attention and focus.  I put away the eggs and decided to save the water chestnuts and bamboo shoots for later.

I plated and ate.

One meal at a time.  One bowl at a time.

Now to go sip some tea with honey and rebuff the chocolate littering the computer desk.

Freak

When I was little I worried a lot about what other people thought of me and how I presented myself to the world.  I was watchful and careful.

As a teenager and into young adulthood I explored and cultivated being 'different' and outside the box.  I stopped worrying about what other people thought of me, and shed my caution layer by layer.

Trying to have children (for five years) and then welcoming them forced me to strive for balance.  Not between being conventional and unusual, but between getting my freak on and taking care of business (I think part of the deal with parenting is that no one ever speaks to how much diligence and energy is required because if they did, not as many people would willingly have multiple children.  Or maybe it's because they're too exhausted or preoccupied to talk.)

This Fall has been an intense time of sensitivity for me.  I feel, simply and profoundly, involuntarily open and exposed.  Emotion, sensation, the moon phase, you name it, I am feeling it a thousandfold.  It's affecting how I take care of business.

I chopped into my finger yesterday and it knocked me out for the whole day.  I woke in the middle of the night and rolled over and my back started spasming.  I can't remember the last time that happened.  (This despite Cap so kindly working on my shoulders and back while we watched 30 Rock and The Soup...therapy for the body and the soul.)

Here's this morning's kicker.  I was looking at this page on my computer screen (Wendy is coming for a visit next week and has requested 'a fabulous coffee and baked good')...

and the intense aroma of chocolate began washing over me in waves entering my nostrils so powerfully I felt momentarily suffocated.  Now, there is chocolate in the room presently.  But, all was quiet on the olfactory front until this picture was staring me in the face, nearly an hour after I sat down at the desk.  And this chocolate smell, I don't recognize it.  It ain't coming from the bars I have (yes, I have two different bars-in-progress...)

Times like this I wonder if I was burned at the stake in a prior life.  Or lobotomized and put on medication.  Or placed in the special cave to live out my life of dreamy eyes and lopsided smiles/ranting and raving and raging tears.

Mellow

Again, of course, the choppy waves and red tornado clouds have passed.  I'm tired...no longer rocked with stormy, sad emotion.

Enjoying the sunlight slanting warmth onto my fingers as I type.

Enjoying my lovely blue cast iron dutch oven full of chili on the stove.  The chain of events: chopping, sauteing and adding onion, garlic, carrots, green-purple peppers (all from the farm) to ground turkey well-seasoned with salt, freshly ground black pepper, cumin and chili powder and then stirring in a can of black beans and a can of kidney beans and then pouring in two big cans of crushed tomatoes (one organic, one local)...aromatic, meditative, therapeutic.  Slow cooking the chili for the next few hours and then letting it season overnight for common meal tomorrow.

Enjoying listening to the silence and din of the kids with O.  Deep play with great friends usually involves both.

Enjoying the book I started this morning during DEAR (Drop Everything And Read): The Hunger Games.

Enjoying this picture.  The kids and I washed the kitchen floor today.

In the woods

Apple of my nose

Macouns are in the house.  The box was left in the entryway overnight and I am enjoying the aromatherapy as I type.

We are visiting sister and bil's new-to-them Catskills cabin on Friday.  I'd had in mind to bake a peach pie, but now I'm thinking apple.

Cap handed in his tenure stuff yesterday.  Now we wait for a decision which will come sometime in December.

In the meantime, today perhaps a NBTS (not back to school) zoo meet-up, tonight common meal, tomorrow park day, Friday a cabin in the woods, Saturday an evening in the city.

Next Monday?  Our own NBTS at home.

Fall?  It's bringing it.

Sucker for the smell

I am incredibly olfactory.  A highly sensitive smeller rather than a super smeller, I'd say.  Doesn't matter if they're good or bad, scents barrel their way right into my central nervous system and have their way with me.

I don't mind, it's been this way forever.

The other day, I was at Whole Foods and had to wait for some salmon sushi to be rolled.  I was alone and the store was pretty empty so I strolled around trying to hold the thought that this was dangerous impulse shopping territory.

Moments like these can actually be useful for me.  Having just a bit of time and space for myself, in the right environment, allows threads that typically don't make it to each other, to magically weave together quickly...magnetically.

The chaos of Spring has dried out my skin.  My scattered mind had noticed this, but hadn't yet gotten around to doing anything about it.  I found myself walking the health and beauty care aisle and standing in front of this:

I opened one and took a sniff...heaven.  Turns out there is grapefruit essential oil in there...one of my favorites.  It's a small meditation now when I remember to put some on my hands at night before turning in.