A world of smells

Being subjected to the unfortunate symptoms of hay fever and having my sense of smell barricaded by a stuffed or runny nose makes me appreciate the times that my nose is actually clear, so I can scent all sorts of aroma's.

It even seems that, because of the occasional lack of smell, I've become more aware of smelling than before. Like a blind person that lost his sight and now has super hearing.

There are smells I am confronted with in this very moment:

A Cinnamon raisin bagel. There's nothing like it, so the vendor in the Bagel Bro Shop claims, but there's something about the smell of cinnamon in the morning that is just not quite right in my mind. Maybe it's because of the fact that I have associated it with the bread pie that my dad used to make for us when we were younger and living in the same house and that I feel protective over the fact that nothing else but my dad's bread pie can smell like cinnamon and raisin, purely out of nostalgic reasons.
Since we have bought a few of them and Aki doesn't really eat bagels in the morning that often anymore, I reluctantly toast them every other morning or so, smearing a bunch of whipped cream cheese on top to tone down the cinnamon taste.

Rotting flowers. I bought them last weekend to color up the living room. They're Memorial Day themed, a combination of white, red and blueish flowers. I really wanted to buy Day Lilies because I love the smell of lilies so much, but since they only had these, I forfeited for the star spangled banner type ones. Of course, THEY've never smelled like anything except for a neutral flower odor. If there even is such a thing.
Right now, they're not in a complete state of deterioration yet, but like the fan club of Morbids chant: you rot away the moment you're born.

Cat pee. I love cats but I hate the smell of cat pee. There are wafts of it that reach my momentarily cleared nostrils. I've become one of those people that sit quietly one moment and suddenly jolt into a frantic sniffing of air the next, saying:

"I smell cat pee."
*snif snif*
"Do you smell cat pee ?"
*snif*
"I smell it.. it's cat pee."

And then, as predictable as 2 + 2 equals 4, I start looking for the source and no corner or pillow in the house is safe from an ammonia attack. OK, now I'm exaggerating a bit here.

Dog heat. Yes, you can smell a dog in heat. Fai is in heat. She's licking her groin area more than is forgivable and when we go for a walk she pees every 30 seconds to get her smell about.
Other than that, she's still pretty calm, except for the occasional howl for male dogs in the area, followed by a visit of the always escaping pit bull a few doors down. If you wonder what dog heat smells like (then you're a very sick person, hehe), it smells like cheese. Not the good kind, but those really smelly ones.

The outdoors. Occasionally, in between all of these comfy other smells, I also get a sniff of fresh oxygen wafting in from outside. And with this, a load of pollen reaches the tiny hairs inside my nose and I start sneezing again and this precious moment of smell clarity is over.