I have a prominent nose. It is a finely tuned instrument that boasts a meticulous sense of smell. As a child I was ridiculed and made to feel that there was something wrong with smelling everything and even today, I am made sport of because of my proclivity to stick my nose in something first.
To me, what something smells like is as important as what it looks like. They say that we pick our mates based on a very guttural reaction to the way they smell, and recalling my first slow dance with Dave years ago, I think it's true. Our sense of smell increases our pleasure beyond what we see, even with the simplest things...a baby's skin, a fresh rose, a warm apple pie out of the oven.
I smell everything...nose first.
Fine wine...if I can't get past "the nose", it's not getting to the first taste...
Before the first bite...oh the warm smell of a cookie...
A gardenia fills my car with a sweet fragrance on a hot summer day...
My kitchen always has a bouquet of fresh basil on the counter...
The bell-weather of good smells...fresh laundry, made soft with Downey...
There's something about they way books smell...I never buy a cookbook before I've opened it up and taken in the smell of print ink...
My knitting friends laugh at me, but I can't help smelling wool yarn...must be the sheep I grew up with...
Needless to say, I am not happy when my nose fails me. That rare occurrence usually happens because I didn't use its talent....you know, when my first glimpse of an object is so captivating that I don't think to hold it up to my nose FIRST. A case in point: I was sitting with the hubby last night watching a marathon of Son's of Anarchy. I was tired of my leather recliner so I moved to the couch to lay down. It was rather humid last night after the rain, so I started to get a little warm.
"What's that smell? I know I took a bath this morning," I think to myself.
I sniff. Sniff again.
"Is that a chicken coup I smell? (we have roosters in the neighborhood)
"No, it's closer than that," I reason.
I sit up on the couch and looked around behind me. I stare down at the cool new pillows that I picked up at Home Goods, JUST BECAUSE they would compliment my Southwest decor.
I grab it angrily like a Mom grabs a kid's arm when it's throwing a tantrum in the grocery store, and hold it up to my nose. Eewww!!! Chicken feathers! And probably the ones from the part that went over the fence last! Memories flood in...I had to pick chickens as a kid and there is nothing more stinky that wet chicken feathers. Absolutely gross!
It goes without saying that these puppies are going poolside where they belong! Id take them back, but I already cut off the "Do not Remove Under Penalty of Law" tags...AGAIN, before I smelled them...
Here's the thing - I know better than this. Once before I purchased a new "Down" pillow only to learn days later that it spoke "cluck cluck" instead of "honk honk". And all because I didn't smell it.
The moral of the story is "Smell first, Ask Questions Later" or "Use it or lose it". A Stradivarius is only sweet if it's played.
Laurel. The Nose Knows.
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