Aromatherapy? What the Smell?

I hope you are all well and as happy as a beaver after a tree falls in your part of the river, but not that busy. Then again, perhaps that’s why you haven’t written – you’ve had too much dam work to do! Oh, that was funny, Espressy.

I’m learning aromatherapy. I’m mixing oils and fragrance to make medicines! I’ve been doing a lot of research because I heard you have to be careful not to make something toxic or blow up the house. I’ve been experimenting like a mad scientist. The process reminds me of my mom when colors her hair. She mixes so many vials of color, there’s no telling what color hair she may have when she leaves the bathroom. Aromatherapy keeps me busy and…..well, happy. We all know how important that is! Those doctor and counselor appointments aren’t cheap! The house smells good and I smell interesting. My Daughter asked her dad, “What’s with mom and all the little bottles? Every corner of the house smells different, and something stinks!” True, I’ve oiled everything, including the dog. The book I bought has recipes for proper mixing but you know how I hate to follow directions. I sprayed My Husband’s pillow with a citrus mix and he dreamed he slept in an orchard. I sprayed my pillow with lavender and rose. I slept all night for the first time in months. The next night I forgot to spray our pillow, and I was up all night. I think that’s the night I made My Husband’s lunch at 3:30 a.m.

My new friend, Jean, came over today and brought some leftover Thai soup she had made, bless her heart. I poured it down the disposal today along with a dish I made that not even the dog would eat. Jean is helping My Daughter decorate her room. She brought her a mirror and told her she could break it and glue the pieces to the wall with Elmer’s. My Daughter broke it all right! She tripped over a pile of stuff lying in her floor, and landed on the mirror shattering it to bits. She wasn’t hurt by that fall but she did slice her thumb with the scissors trying to open a Legg’s egg on Sunday morning. We were late for church while we waited for her to quit bleeding. It could have used a stitch, but we’re too cheap to take our kid to the emergency room on the weekend. She is asking to be home-schooled next semester, but I think it’s just too dangerous. Her room is a safety hazard and we don’t want her spending too much time there.

My Daughter went to the mall with me. Shopping is good therapy for depression. In fact, I’ve found that depression is an excuse for just about any childish behavior. I got annoyed when My Daughter would not let me try on the blouse with fake fur on the sleeves, nor the leopard hats, nor the feathered boas. I think I may have embarrassed my daughter when I lay in the floor screaming and kicking the cosmetics counter. All I wanted was one more squirt of perfume! She said if I wanted to smell like a French whore, she’d take me home so I could play in my aroma oils.

Well, here she comes now. I think she wants me to cook dinner. Too bad I didn’t keep that Thai soup.

Love,
Spressy

(1998)