Perfumes, Scents and Smells

THE PERFUME I WEAR NOW

I've used Estée Lauder's Beyond Paradise for years... so much so that eldest grandson mentioned to his mother recently that someone they'd just met wore the same perfume as his grandmother!

Recently I've been using 'Pure' by DKNY, which is more expensive, (because they didn't have the Paradise one in stock) but I think I'll go back to the Beyond Paradise because I'm getting far fewer compliments than I used to....

SMELLS I LOVE

Strawberries and raspberries, freshly picked basil, mint, gardenias, roses, lemons, limes and mandarins, chocolate, toast, freshly cut grass.

Osmanthus fragrans – very small flowers but highly perfumed

The crushed leaves of lemon verbena (Aloysia triphylla)

Roast lamb with a bit of rosemary, and some mint sauce!

That very young baby smell

Love the scent of a good Sauvignon Blanc

MEMORIES

Pine trees –we had small ones at Christmas… but walking past a fruit shop with them all stacked ready for sale is such a ‘Christmas’ smell….

Love the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans (reminds me  of standing in the bus queue outside Dewhurst’s in the High St, Slough when I was a teenager: they had a special fan which blew the gorgeous smell right where the bus stop was!  They also sold delicious ham carved off the bone, and had the leg sitting on its special china stand in the window….)

The scent of wattle (except it was mimosa in those days) reminds me of the markets that were in a big courtyard behind the Dewhurst shop: there was a fruit stall there and they often had branches of mimosa for sale – in the early spring I think it would have been.  I loved the smell and the bright yellow of the little flowers!

A strong garlic smell reminds of the very garlicky, strong cigarettes and male smell that hit us as we walked along an arcade of shops in Barcelona in 1957!

Eucalyptus reminds me of the storm we had in Wahroonga, January 21 1991: so many trees were stripped of their leaves, and the ‘mulch’ of fresh leaves (with twigs and branches) mixed with fallen power lines (and poles) and trees made streets almost impassable for several days….. and the scent of eucalyptus hung around for days too.

Tweed perfume – which I wore in my early twenties.

Badedas bath essence: this was the present of choice for my Mum when I didn’t know what to give her!  (She loved it!)

Carbolic – mixed with a stale beer and tobacco smell – reminds me of the New Inn, Clydach Vale (where my grandparents were managers in the early forties): the floors were washed down every morning….but it never really smelt ‘clean’!

When I was young, practically every week somewhere on my walk home from school there would be a place where they were digging up the footpath and there would be that distinctive smell of sewer…. I don’t know whether it was just the age of the pipes around Slough but those sort of road works seemed to be normal!  The flagstones would be stacked to one side; there would be ropes around the hole, and you’d often have to walk in the gutter for ten yards or so…..

I don’t know whether I really like the smell, but that hot dusty smell when it has just started raining after a hot spell is pretty distinctive.  When I was young, the tar on the roads would melt a bit (or sometimes a lot even in an English summer!) – and there would be little bubbles in amongst the small stones… we used to pop them by standing on them, and then the soles of our sandals would smell of the tar.

And a strong tarry smell, mixed with hydrogen sulphide: there was a pond of waste ‘water’ just the other side of the railway bridge on Farnham Road which I walked past on my way to the swimming pool, and it smelt disgusting!

And thinking of bad smells – we had such problems with the Jetmaster fireplace we installed in the front room at Westbrook Avenue: whenever we had a good fire going pretty soon there would be a baaad smell… a combination of stale dishcloth and hot dead mouse, and we couldn’t work out how to stop it – other than stop lighting fires!!

AND just after I had posted this...

Unplanned bout of domesticity:
Just making a second cup of coffee. 'Oh, what's that funny ring left on the bench from the milk container?" Tentative smell, fishy, like anchovies.... anchovies!!!! 
The little bottle of anchovies had fallen onto its side in the shelf above the milk and the orange juice (and further down were salad dressings etc) and dripped oil...drip, drip, drip.... amazing just how far it had spread!! And those door shelves are not easy to wash in the sink - water spurts out in unexpected places...

Listening.....

The melodious song of the magpies.  The squawking of the rainbow lorikeets in the grevilleas.  The short trills of the fairy wrens as they move in their group darting amongst the roses and cordylines looking for small insects. The quiet chugging of a tractor in the distance.  The sound of cows tearing up clumps of grass in the paddock next door.

I love the quiet of the country that lets you hear the small background sounds.  And then there can be the sudden outburst from a couple of kookaburras, competing to see which can be the loudest!

I love it when it is warm enough to have the door open to the courtyard.  Then I can hear the noises from outside – the calls of the different birds, the sound of the cows waiting at the dairy on the other side of the valley, the rustle of the leaves and the grasses, the tinkle of the water when the fountain is on.  I don’t have the fountain going very much when it is just me at home – because one of the sounds I like best is the splashing that the birds make as they bathe in the water of the main tier of the fountain – and they tend not to do that when the fountain is actually running.  The male Satin Bower Bird visits for a bath most early mornings and late afternoons.... and the young magpies at any time of the day.

I think a lot of my enjoyment in getting up early is actually because it is so quiet......  just the sound of the kettle coming to the boil... the ticking of the clock over the bookcase, and the rustle of the pages as I read my Bible. 

I remember as a child the pin-dropping quietness in winter which alerted you to the sound-absorbing quality of a thick layer of overnight snow—long before you opened your eyes and saw the glaring whiteness of the window..... although if you had slept in a bit, there would be the tell-tale scrape of spade and thump of broom as the early-risers cleared the path to the front door.

I listen for the wind rustling the cedars outside the front door – I can’t hear them from the family room but you can guess it’s happening when the leaves dance in little circles on the paving outside the window.  Those big trees can be very noisy when there’s a southerly change coming through, and the strength of the wind can come as a bit of a shock when you step outside the front door.

I listen for the sound of the school bus picking up the children who live over the road... and shortly afterwards the crunch on the gravel as the postman’s truck pulls in to the driveway to put letters in our mailbox.

Sometimes the sound of the drying cycle of the dishwasher comes as a surprise – if everything is stacked correctly there is so little noise when it is in the washing part of the cycle.....

I don’t listen to the radio very much at all... I have to confess I often get so cranky at comments made by people  when the ‘lines are thrown open’ that I’ve stopped listening even to sensible programs!

I listen for the sound of the timer when I am cooking... particularly when I am baking: I don’t seem to be able to just commit the time to memory and keep track of the minutes!  And I hear the sound of the timer that Vern uses to make sure he doesn’t sleep too long when he has a short nap after lunch.

I sometimes listen to music, from my iPod.... earlier this year I played a lot of BeeGees for a couple of weeks, which coincided with the death of Robin Gibb.  I still enjoy Celine Dionne and Eric Clapton unplugged..... and music from the Three Tenors.

I listen for the sound of the car door outside, and the key turning in the lock as Vern comes home after work.

I rarely use the fan of the range-hood – I hate the amount of noise that it makes.. although when we need to use it I am grateful that is it so efficient!

Now that Mollie is almost blind and pretty deaf she is a lot more tentative about coming in through the dog door... and often will wait outside and give a short sharp bark to let us know she is there... then we give a couple of loud claps preferably near the laundry, and she comes in... and usually expects a Schmacko treat as a reward!  She usually seems to notice when someone comes to the front door, and will bark before the front door bell rings... but not if she is in a very deep sleep.

Housework

I would so much rather do other things than ‘housework’!!

I am happy to do the household shopping – most times, anyway.  And planning and cooking the evening meal is something I enjoy doing most nights.

But I am not naturally neat and super-tidy (definitely not a tidy-tidy person like my friend Gael!).

Having places where things belong makes it much easier to tidy up.  Thinking back to the first few houses we lived in, I didn’t make sure that there were enough storage places.   I think I also got overwhelmed by the task of tidying up at the end of a busy day with four young children, when I was desperately tired.  As a result, when Vern came home there were toys and mess everywhere... which he found hard to cope with.

I did tidy the big downstairs room in the North Turramurra house at least once a week though(!), because we had a morning tea there every Tuesday.  I can remember being pleased to have a good reason to tidy....even though it needed to be done again by the end of the morning after maybe as many as ten small children had been playing there!

I tried having boxes where the toys belonged to make it easier for the kids to help.  I had a number of rectangular plastic washing-up bowls, and on the outside I drew a shape – a car for instance – and shaded it in using black texta, so that was where the cars went.  But this was only moderately successful.

There always seemed to be piles of washing to be done, and then clean clothes to be sorted!  I think it was soon after the children each had their own bedroom in Westbrook that I gave each one their own named laundry basket and treated each child’s clothes as a separate wash.  This way I didn’t have to work out which socks and underpants belonged to which child!  And as they got older they were responsible for their own washing and ironing.  Vern was very good – he looked after his own clothes too, and even ironed his own shirts.

Once the children started school they had to wear lace-up shoes which needed cleaning.  Without actually discussing it, I waited for Vern to do this – and he waited for me.   It took us a while to work out that in his house his mum had cleaned the shoes – whereas in mine, it was my father!

I have to confess I am not very good at making the bed every morning, nor remembering to wash the towels and sheets every week!  I can remember that when our house in Wahroonga was for sale and we had to keep the whole house clean and tidy – and the beds made every day, I said that maybe this would help me develop better habits!  I am much better at doing a ‘spring clean’ when I move a bit of furniture in a room than following a routine cleaning schedule!

I was certainly spoilt by those years in PNG when we had someone who would come and clean, wash and iron every day....  (When we first arrived we weren’t going to employ anyone because we thought it was the ‘wrong’ thing to do!  But after we had about seven different people come to our door in the first week asking, pleading for work we decided to take the next person... who turned out to be Leo, who was young and inexperienced and ended up being trained by John, who was our neighbour’s house-boy!).  And then for 15 or so years in Wahroonga, when I was very busy doing volunteer work we had Mrs Kim (who also cleaned for Gael) come every week – she cleaned upstairs one week and downstairs the next.  She wasn’t the most brilliant cleaner – but she was exceptionally honest and I was very happy to trust her with our house key.

I am very fortunate that now we live in Wingham Vern has taken on the responsibility of doing the vacuuming each week.  I feel a bit guilty that I am not doing the dusting as regularly as I ought.

But I am getting a lot better these days at making the extra effort to pack the dishwasher with the dirty dishes after the evening meal – most of the time, anyway.  I am finding that I do enjoy seeing a tidy kitchen first thing in the morning....  and helped by the fact that when the sun shines in to our kitchen every single little spot of dust shows!

Ten Things About Me

Favourite part of my day:  First thing in the morning when I get up and make a strong cup of tea.... that tastes so good!  And then later, about an hour after sunrise, when the sun has reached all the corners of the valley, and the edges of the mountains are crisp and clear against the sky..... I love standing on our terrace near the pavilion and looking down the hill, seeing the glistening dew drops on the grass, watching magpies wandering around while kookaburras perch on the fence or the bird table; counting the ducks swimming on the dam or feeding on the grass, noting whether there are cows on the river flats, looking to see if the wrens or fantails are flitting around.....

Loving:  The friendship, support and discussion at our Friday Night Bible Study Group – and the meal-times too!

Needing to:  train my body to sleep through a whole night so I wake up feeling really refreshed and only need the smallest of nana naps in the afternoon!   

      Oh – and I need to be more diligent in doing my household chores BEFORE I have fun doing other things!

Struggling with: Daily exercise!  I have been enjoying the treadmill when I can watch something interesting on the DVD player – musicals seem to be the easiest to ‘walk to’.  

Knowing:  that I need to persevere, possibly for a couple of years to get down to my target weight – and then I’ll need to stay disciplined so I don’t put it on again!

Planning:  we’ve already had various celebrations this year.  At the end of June it was 43 years since we first went out together: we’ve just finished celebrating Vern’s 70^th birthday at the end of July, and in a week’s time it will be 5 years since we moved into this house. 

       On November 20^th it will be exactly 20 years since we got back together again – and that will be well worth a big celebration!

Looking forward to:  The time when my husband Vern has his ‘second’ retirement!  It will be good to be able to do things together each day – even if it is just having a lazy coffee together – and see him relaxed and enjoying a slower pace of life – but more importantly have him able to choose what to do and when.

In the meantime:  I have been thoroughly enjoying having the time to focus on scrapbooking.  I’m one-fifth along the way towards my goal of 144 double layouts in the year 2012.  In fact, I’m enjoying it so much I feel guilty at doing something so self-absorbing! 

  However I think it is very important to avoid having too many regular commitments, so that when my husband does retire (again!) I am not too busy to enjoy it!

In the distant future:  I hope that we will be able to choose the right time to move to a smaller house and garden in Wauchope while we are still active enough to be able to enjoy frequent visits from our grandchildren and maybe even some baby-sitting… although it will be more ‘child-sitting’ by then…... 

Hoping:  I do pray for the blessing of growing old together.....  I pray that we can get to see all of our children happy in their relationships and their daily lives and work.  And I look forward, God willing, to watching our grand-children as they grow up.  I am so impressed by what a great job our daughters and their husbands are already doing bringing up their children.

Mature, mellow and vintage

Mature, mellow and vintage – that’s me!

“quality, choice, superior, better, good, select, best, classic, aged, seasoned, mature(d), mellow(ed)"

Or to hand-pick phrases from some of the definitions:

 ripe, or fully aged; fully developed in body or mind; well-matured; made gentle and compassionate by age or maturity; softened; an exceptionally fine wine from the crop of a good year.....

As opposed to old, elderly and in declining years....!

But I’m not!! 

Certainly I am definitely over 65... several generations ago this would have been regarded as definitely ‘past it’....but that’s not how I feel inside!    “Young at heart” isn’t quite right either...I have to say that I’ve lost a lot of that ‘don’t care about the consequences’ that I associate with being young.  Certainly some of the things I did in my youth I wouldn’t even want to do now – not even think of doing, let alone being able to!!

But I don’t feel old either...  I still want to try new things, at my own pace admittedly, and on my own terms.....    and I want to be able to understand most of what my children and grandchildren are talking about.  I want to nod wisely in the right places, and be able to ask reasonably intelligent questions and understand at least most of their answers!

I still get a surprise when I look in the mirror and see all that grey and greying hair, and the wrinkles, and the start of a double chin... but let’s not dwell on all this!  Some parts of my body do ache and creak, and there’s too much body in some places!  Consequently it flops and wobbles.....  And I really don’t like those air-dryers for your hands in toilet washrooms (although I must admit the new Dyson ones are very effective)... you see, they do terrible things to the loose skin on the back of your hand when you’re older....it builds up in waves with the pressure of the air – and takes quite a while to get back into place......

But I LOVE new things – learning new skills, dabbling in new technologies – and conquering them – or at least using them, even if I couldn’t say I’ve completely mastered them! 

Maybe not when they first appear – it takes me a while to adjust to new fashions (and when it’s clothes or shoes they’re usually going out of fashion by the time I’m willing to accept them as ‘normal ‘) – and for some of the new technologies I wouldn’t want to pay out good money for them when they first appear.... 

But, I don’t want to wish myself into a backwater either, or reject something out of hand without giving it a go (unless it’s something akin to bungee-jumping!).  And I love solving problems...finding missing socks, working out how a new gadget works, adjusting to a new camera that doesn’t have a viewfinder – just a screen at the back, working out how to navigate round a new piece of software......

So – that is why I’m having a go at a BLOG! 

Slowing Down

Taking time to smell the roses, appreciating the rhythms of the farming year, watching the changing colours of the hills at sunrise and sunset