Smellicious

Bit of a touchy subject, but if it allows me to extoll the benefits of pine tar soap, so be it; no sensibilities will be offended.  Maybe a little banged up.

In this country, keeping your aroma invisible is a national pastime and thank goodness for that.  My son has traveled here and there, and has reported back that some areas of the globe are at the other end of the spectrum.  The other end, over the cliff, and out back of the shed.  Face it, folks; we're mammals, and if you can point in the direction of another mammal that smells pleasant naturally, you are most likely looking at a healthy cat.

Dogs smell doggy, apes smell ape-y, and if you've ever smelled a live chicken, we aren't talking about  Colonel Sanders's recipe.  The thing is, there are many species that have protective, odorous emissions, from birds such as hoopoes, to insects, to the homegrown skunk, and these aromas are usually connected with body fluid that comes from near the part which is almost always located at the back end of business.  There are birds who will projectile vomit to frighten off predators, and beetles who have separate compartments for the chemicals hydroquinone and hydrogen peroxide.  When alarmed, the insect sprays both fluids at the same time; they combine and react, causing the new solution to reach almost 100 degrees Celsius.  Science, this bug has a doctorate in.

My millipedes, currently in hibernation, leave a small, malodorous puddle of dilute cyanide if I pick them up; it doesn't seem to bother me, and I do wash up before sandwiches, but enough of it could kill a small mouse.  I've read that lemurs get drunk on it.

But, ah!  Humans!  We are a singular species who create odors from almost every part of us; on top of that, we are covered in microorganisms who digest these volatile confits, and produce smells of their own.  A skunk produces less on it's skin than we do, and lord have mercy if you are a human teenager going through a time of life when one is abounding with an extra dose of bacteria.  Here is a short list of excretions: water, proteins, amino acids, urea, ammonia, lactic acids and salts, which means sweat, urine, breath, saliva, breast milk, skin oils, and sexual secretions all contain scent-communicating chemical compounds.  Now, so do other animals, but humans have more scent glands than almost any other mammal in their skin.  Therefore, greater the potential to produce.

Here is not so wonderful news; there is an old people smell.  It's not offensive, but it scientifically exists, just as baby, teenage, young adult, and middle age do.  You want amusement, type "old people smell" in the search bar, and stand back; there are causes both natural and dietetic, and the serious truth that if you are old, you have old things and these items smell after 30-40 years of existence and so you carry that with you, and smell like the couch that either a number of pets have sat on over the years, or candy-sticky, pizza-faced youngsters.  Or you, on a sweaty summer day.  Or again, you, relegated to the couch in pajamas slathered in Vick's.  It's a good argument for new furniture.  And anti-smell pills.

I have taken chlorophyll for years, and notice when I don't.  Recently, a purchase of pine tar soap was slapped into an order so I would make the free shipping mark, it was the cheapest item to add.  When it arrived, the smell reminded me of a fresh asphalt parking lot, and woof, why do people use this?
But I tried it out, and within a day, I remained fresh and approachable till the next ablution; within a week, most of my stubborn athlete's foot has disappeared; and best of all, no further is the fragrance of yesterday's chili dogs apparent after a long day.

Also, celery helps your smell from the inside outwards, persimmon soap neutralizes a chemical produced by aging skin, and as your older pituitary gland is not firing out as many signals to do so, remember to drink water like it's your job.

Now tell me, and you are lucky if this was; after a bath and clean jammies, Mom would make the bed with you in it once the bottom sheet was on.  We didn't use top sheets in our house, so the wool blankets were parachuted right on top, covered by a cotton comforter just out of the dryer.  Were the sheets and pillowcases hung out on a wash line in the sun?  Glory.  It was like having a nest in bed smelling like outdoors, like Mother Nature came inside for a visit.  Like things were okay.  Like that "if I should die before I wake" part didn't mean a sweet child like you even if you did cut your own hair earlier that day, because the smell of everything said comfort and safety.

Good night, good night, this chill day ends overcast and darkening a bit early with the cloud cover; time for soup, the cats' dinner, and a few chores before sleep.  The first week of February has ended, with hopes looking toward spring; dreams of housecleaning and sweeping out corners have begun. Floral displays of potted tulips and daffodils whisper come hither messages to the winter-weary traveler, and starting seeds indoors for gardens is beginning.  Sleep then, hibernation lasts a few more weeks of wind and cold; the new moon rises in direct east, and travels to west until the first quarter.

I think of the ones outside; the birds wait for the new buds as much as you or I, the trees ache for sun and sap rising.  Sleep well, tuck under.  Let go, I will watch over for you.