Sense of smell
- When I woke up this morning and walked into the kitchen to get milk for M, the air still smelled like the brown rice I cooked for J for dinner last night. Usually when I wake up to the smells of cooking from the night before, it's enough to make me feel a little queasy. Like, sausage and peppers may smell fabulous at 7pm when you're hungry and you've been waiting for this meal all afternoon. But at 7am it's just nasty. So it was pleasant to smell only the brown rice (since I grilled the rest of dinner outside) this morning and not be completely grossed out by it.
- We stopped at a gas station on the way home tonight and J bought a car wash with the tank of gas. Going through the wash, when the second round of (multicolored. why?) soap was put on, the car filled with a scent. . .coconut lime verbena, Bath and Body Works, exactly. I know it's not a revelation, but it always amazes me how much a specific scent can take you back to such a precise moment in time. Or several moments, in this case. But generally, my mind was suddenly back in the summer of 2003. I was in my room on LG Street, freshly showered and putting on my new lotion, T across the hall blasting Justin Timberlake or Britney or something. Getting ready to hit the clubs, oooh. Or maybe just getting ready for the "day" after spending a Saturday going to the gym, and to Starbuck's for a pumpkin scone, and to the mall for a cute new shirt or to salivate over too-tall shoes. Either way, even if the plan was for a very tame night of dinner at Cafe Rio and renting a movie, no night with T and I ever turned out tame. How was that possible? How did we always manage to find boys to make the night a little interesting at the very least? Just driving around town, we didn't even have to get out of the car to find some game. Oh, those nights when there was something in the air. . .it felt like anticipation all summer long. And I don't know if it was just because life was so filled with unknown, and unknown can be so exciting, or if it's because something in me knew that something big was about to happen. . .duh, meeting my J. Either way, look what that smell of coconut lime verbena does to me. One minute I'm at a car wash in the deep South, Saturday night and no makeup, chipped toenail polish, just my boy and my girl and me; the next minute I'm four years and 2500 miles ago, filled with a sense of my own power and peace with who I was, ready and heart open for what was next.
- Still coconut lime verbena, but the other moment that I was taken to: standing in my cousin J's room in a walk-out basement in Seattle. Again, freshly showered and putting on my lotion. The window open to the cool fresh grey of northwest air on a July morning. Hoping no one goes out to the backyard where they could see right into where I'm dressing, but I'm certainly not going to close the blinds on all of that refreshment. Getting ready for a day out and about in Seattle with my mom--I remember the day at --- Village (can't remember), shopping for Gin and Tonic perfume in Anthropologie, a lime-green notebook in Crate and Barrel, a white eyelet skirt at Banana Republic, and daydreams of a home someday inspired by Pottery Barn furniture and beach-inspired decorations, honeybee glasses at Anthropologie and stylish Mrs. So-and-so clothes in every boutique. Again, dreaming of, waiting for, filled with the anticipation of: J. Of course I didn't know that yet, but he was coming and my heart was already filled with it. Maybe it was taking a lovely vacation with my mom, but I swear all I did that week was daydream about the husband, the house, the LIFE that I just couldn't wait to get to. Not that I didn't enjoy the time with my mom. But I'm enough of a sucker (romantic) that I never was very good at enjoying a vacation without wishing that I had a boy to enjoy it with. Hence the daydreams of the life. I'd had it before, half-hearted, half-a$$ed, halfway, half-baked, but even with all the halves, I knew what it was and what I couldn't wait for. Grown out of the fairytale whine of I want a boy, I knew perfectly well that marriage is hardly ever Disney, more Grimm's. In college I just wanted a boy. I wanted to feel loved, feel pretty, feel wanted. Been there, done that, knew where to get that any time I wanted. Pretty, wanted. . .that's the easy part to come by. What I wanted was the real life thing, a man who'd dig in and do the work with me. Ups or downs, bring em on--I just wanted someone who wouldn't lie his way through every inch of life like the one before. As long as I know who he is and he's in it with me for real, a life can be built and can be good. I knew it instinctively. I didn't want the Pottery Barn fairytale because I need to look prosperous to others. I wanted it because I need to feel warm and secure and welcome at home for myself (and, embarrassing, I guess that's what I've always seen in the PB still-lifes. Way to go, PB marketing team! You've got me hook, line, and sinker! You've done your job well!). I wanted the life and the man represented in those tableaux. The one who has goals in life and holds down a job and wants to support his family; wants to make a home every bit as much as I do. So I guess I was in Seattle but my mind was chasing something around every corner, something that had nothing to do with Pike Place Market or shopping sprees or cheesecake. Wow. I guess I better hope they don't discontinue the coconut lime verbena any time soon--where would I go for my trip back in time then?
- Back down to earth. M had a bath in the big tub in my bathroom today. I used the "milk and honey" scent body wash and lotion that I've used since she was about two weeks old. If everyone at some point discovers that a bottle of baby wash will last approximately until they go to middle school, then why does anyone give it as a gift? I appreciate it, I appreciate it. But the four (no exaggeration) bottles that I got before M was born, plus the two bottles of different scents that I bought right after she was born because I was already tired of that original baby shampoo scent (all four gift bottles--same one). . .yeah, still working on five of those six. We did finally finish off the one that turned out to be my favorite--Johnson's Naturals, in the sage green bottle--yum! But I should have spaced out the use of the good-smelling ones, because now the milk n' honey is almost gone too, and then I'm going to be stuck with, what? roughly three more years of the boring original scent? This topic really shouldn't cause me this much angst, but it's only because M is so entirely EDIBLE when I've used either the J's Naturals or the M n' H. When giving her hugs and kisses all day after a bath is actually a source of entertainment because she smells so good, well that's worth putting a little thought into what I'm bathing her with, right? Hmm. . .my point for this paragraph got lost in there somewhere. I'm sure it's there. Where did I put it. . .
- Moving on. My final scent-related point for the day. (Wow, stretching that coconut lime one over two bullets really saved my theme, I would have hated to run out of thematic material when I'm on such a roll!) A few nights ago I dug in my tub-o-candles to find my fall scents, and so I have Bath and Body Works' Perfect Autumn Pumpkin on the entryway table, and Gold Canyon's Apple Cider on the kitchen counter. I forgot they were there for a few days, but this morning when M and I got home from the gym and I knew we'd be around the house for the rest of the day, doing housework, taking naps, etc., I thought I'd light the apple cider to create a little cozy fall ambiance for myself for the day. And wow did it work. I left that thing burning for about 6 hours, because I just didn't want to blow it out and end the coziness. Did it matter that it was 85 degrees and humid outside? Nope. Inside, I could convince myself that the leaves on the trees were golden and russet and that if I went outside I'd need to grab a jacket. Wishful thinking, wishful thinking. Not that I'm wishing myself away from here. I'm working so hard to not wish my life away, but to enjoy the moment where I am. But I would just enjoy it even more if HERE would have a change of season earlier than, say, late December. I'm certainly used to it from living in the desert, but I don't think I'll ever get over the fact that fall is my favorite time of year and that what I expect in my favorite time of year is a little nip in the air, that SMELL that you get when the leaves start to change, and the irresistable desire to put on a sweater and make mushroom wild rice soup and breadsticks and pumpkin-apple cake. Sweaters? NO WAY. Soup? Not so much. Pumpkin apple cake I could do anytime, if it weren't for this d*mn constant diet that I feel the need to be on. End of complaining. We live in a beautiful place, and it's definitely cooled down from the days of 110 degrees, and I know it will eventually be sweater weather. And inside my house, thanks to BBW and Gold Canyon, it can be pumpkin, apple October no matter what it's like outside.
