Scents and Sensibilility - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

I noticed it again last night - the cloying smell of somebody's dryer sheets somehow making it's way into my hermetically sealed home. This, to me is an indication that said dryer sheets contain too much scent, but that's hardly news to me. Some days I can barely walk in my neighbourhood without wearing a clothespin.

Yes, my sniffer is a bit hyperactive. It not only itches and runs when perfumes proliferate, it kindly alerts my eyes, lips and ears that they should commence itching too. I can actually taste smells, and the sensation gives me a sore throat. Prolonged exposure gives me a head-ache, and once my eyes begin to water I'm in agony, as I have "Dry Eye Syndrome" and tears make my eyes burn and hurt. If I'm lucky, I can flee the scene of the stinky offense before the skin on my entire face begins to crawl.

There was a time, many moons ago, when I could manage a dab of perfume, but after my second son was born those days ended. I had to stop wearing perfumes, and told my husband to go easy on the aftershave.

I'm convinced there are a lot of people out there almost as "scent-sitive" as I am. Scent free zones are popping up in churches and auditoriums, and unscented products are at long last becoming easier to find. I am grateful that this is the case, and my nose thanks those who have spearheaded these initiatives. Still, society has a long way to go before it begins to grasp the potential problems of an overly scented planet. Personally, I find it hard to comprehend how so few people grasp that there are already abundant scents in nature without adding scented everything into the mix.

Think about it. Most of us shower with soap that has a smell, and then apply deodorant that has a smell (even if it says it doesn't) and some of us are wise enough to stop there. I'm pretty confident that except for those post-treadmill and pre-shower moments in my life I manage to not stink up any room that I'm in. I look for the most gentle scents available in household cleaning products and still my house smells clean - no need for scented candles or air-fresheners. In fact, I would go so far as to opine that layers of perfume in our environment are REALLY bad for us. Everyone seems to have allergies now, and more and more people seem to be developing asthma and similar lung conditions.

"But it's just a little perfume" you might be arguing at this point. I'm sure that's what the managers of Pier One, The Linen Chest, and all those other stores that I (and a whole raft of other people I know) avoid as much as possible think too, but in reality their "incense-sitivity" keeps an entire segment of potential buyers from shopping there. I have gone into those "scented" stores on occasion to see sales clerks gasping for air. Tell me those people aren't having their health compromised on a daily basis!

"But this is a NATURAL scent!" people argue when I tell them I have a hard time with smells. Sorry, but if it came out of a bottle it's more processed than "natural". And even if it is attar hand-wrung from rose petals it may still manage to drive me wild. Last spring I brought a sprig of lilac into my kitchen, and three hours later it was driving me so insane that I had to dispose of it by putting it on  the compost heap in the back yard.

I know I won't change the minds of the truly scent addicted out there, but for those of you who wonder why I don't ever use the scented candles you give me, this may be informative. Please people, be scent sensible, and understand that there is a whole sector of society that suffer from scent sensitivities on a constant basis.

And with that thought in mind, I grace you with my latest poetic offering.

De-Scentsitized:  (By Sharon Flood Kasenberg - Novenber 17th, 2012)

Repent, repent, all ye who scent!
Assail my nose no more.
I must pick bone, with your cologne-
it's too strong to ignore.
My nose doth twitch, my ears they itch -
my eyes they pour like rain.
My lungs, they burn - for air they yearn
from scent you should abstain.

I shouldn't grouse, but oh - your house!
I dare not step inside.
Your potpourri is killing me!
(What DO you have to hide?)
With candles lit strong fumes emit
to toxify the air -
still you can't grasp how much I gasp
from what is burning there.

Can you not see I'd rather be
waist deep in cow manure
than have to greet scents cloyed and sweet
you force me to endure?
If to sweet smells my soul impels
I'll go and sniff a rose,
or maybe bake a chocolate cake
to satisfy my nose.