Dirt and Mothering

Mothers know a lot about dirt.

Dirt that needs a bath.  Dirt that needs laundry.  Dirt that the dog brought in.  Dirt that one neighbor tries to offer about another.  Dirt that just won't get out from under the fingernails.  Dirt that gathers into an astonishing mega dust bunny within 24 hours of a vacuuming.

(Hmmm...maybe that's more than 24 hours...but boy, those "bunnies" sure can grow to impressive diameter.)

Anyway, I happen to be a fan of dirt.  Because I'm a gardener.  I like the way dirt smells.  Humus, quality loam, potting soil...I love it all.  I'm a fan of the right dollop of dirt in certain perfumes, too.  Of course, there are variations on what "dirt" means to different sniffers.  Today, since I am chomping at the bit and go out and dig in my own little patch of green, I'm going to offer up a couple of recent favorite scents with "real" dirt inside.

CB I Hate Perfume Wild Hunt   Yum, yum...and not in a gourmand way.  Not at all.  This is violets on the forest floor, remembering there is green about you, and you get to go for a ride and continue deeper into the woods and stop and smell the humus.  The smell takes you up above the ground to discover the violets (which waft a bit in the air), and then drops you down on the ground again, then mixes them around.  Nice.

Ayala Moriel Rainforest  Okay here's a brand new one to my sniffer, and I am infatuated.  Brings together a couple of passions of mine, galbanum and dirt, on either end of a really fun deep dark dense evolution from one to the other.  Oh, lawsy, where Wild Hunt lets you linger a few feet above the ground on the waft of violets, Rainforest insists you stick with the leaves and the needles and the ground and remember that this growing thing is vegetal, baby.  Ayala calls it a "coniferous chypre," and I can see why.  Vaguely resiny, definitely the green of a mixed forest.  Remember, rainforests don't just exist in tropical zones...you can also meander through a rainforest near the 45th parallel on the Pacific coast.  You won't find piranhas, but should be prepared to encounter socks with Birkenstocks. 

I'm heading out to dig, which has become a traditional Mother's Day gift to me:  protected time in the garden, with ready labor as requested.

Happy Mother's day to all who mother, and all who are remembering their mothers.

I need spring!

I have been embracing winter, and all of its foot deep snow sub-zero temperatureness, for many weeks now.  Here me roar! I'd cry as I stepped into my skis and traverse the park.  Feel me toast! I'd think as I'd contentedly set the fire.  Watch me be happy! I'd say, as I settled down with one form of warming drink or another.

Personal barometric pressure change.  I've reached an impasse with winter.  Our early and unrelenting weather has suddenly made me cry "uncle."  I am going to wave my magic dauber and...

Bring on Christopher Brosius.  Wild Hunt in one elbow crook, I am a Dandelion in the other.  On the left, the dirt from Black March gets tossed about with the tops and bottoms of violets, and the resulting dust up is a fantastic melange of green and earth and trompling through the forest.  On the right, the sun shines down on a freshly opened flower, but dandelion sap keeps it all from being saccharine sweet.  Something else, too, but I'm still rooting around...this is my first trip with IamD.  

(Not only am I a dandelion, I am cheating.  I had intended to only pop the Spring is Coming fragrances just before the actual smelling of spring.  But I can't afford a vacation, so...)

Actually, the ability to root around is just what I needed.  If I can't dig out my trowel, unwrap carefully packaged bareroot plants, check on my emerging seedlings...this will do.  Thanks, CB.  I don't hate perfume, necessarily, but I do love some of the things you have to offer.

Crucible of White (CB Cradle of Light)

I'm puzzled.  I'm excited.  I may be about to make a fool of myself.

I have a sample of CB I Hate Perfume Cradle of Light.  You know, CB's gift to white florals and expensive ingredients.  I applied today for the first time.  Mother of all that is green perfume fabulous, thank you.  Thank you for not being afraid to toss in some tobacco.  Thank you for remembering all the material that makes a plant.  Thank you for keeping it interesting, and developing, as a perfume should.  Thank you for the hint of floral that never whams.

SCREECH.  Yup.  That's right.  With full open acknowledgement that this is just the first run, I have to say this:  I really don't get the white floral part.  (I'm still standing, because I'm just too stupid or naive to duck and cover.)  And I'm nervous, because that's what the fracas {ha, ha, ha} is supposed to be all about.

What I'm getting is the happiest non-galbanum green experience I've had thus far in my short but intense perfume career.  With that waft of tobacco I mentioned, which isn't even mentioned in the official notes.  I figure the possibilities are these:

1) All sniffers are different; YMMV.

2) I was on the verge of a migraine for 2 days, and finally ditched it earlier today.  My sniffer is still affected.

3) I'm stark raving mad.* 

4) The juice in the vial is really something else.

*BTW, if you happen to have any good expressions for mad/off your rocker/cuckoo/nuts/one brick shy of a load/etcetera, please share them with me.  I know someone who is conducting a linguistic study, and I can pass along the data.  Thanks.

I really must return to this.  Whatever happened here, I liked it.

****

UPDATE:  Oh, precious beast that haunts drydowns...can it be?...more than THREE HOURS after application, and white florals emerge?  Sweet mother of drawn out pleasure, by this point you have made me forget my ambivalent relationship with white florals.  I love that you have managed this (perhaps by taking so long?), that the green still informs it all, that you made me wait, that I almost forgot, then THERE YOU WERE.  You make me think I should always delay at least three hours before publishing a test drive review. 

Whatever ends up becoming of us, I am glad you came into my life.  I couldn't have appreciated you as much when I was (a) younger (perfumista), and may not appreciate you as much when I am (an) more experienced (perfumista).  

Experiencing CofL might end up being a terrible case of "the first one is free."  Ready?  Are you sitting down?  You can find a 1/4 ml (that's right; 0.25 ml.) decant for $10 from the Perfumed Court.  You'll have to go to a CB boutique to find retail bottles, which near as I can tell are $50/2ml.  And the sad thing is, I'm up in the middle of the night, writing and sneaking one more hit.  Thanks, Tom, for my sample.   It'll go in the safe deposit box.