That’s what I say to my mom when she comes to visit and I press my nose to something she brought from her house. It’s not meant as an insult, but more of an olfactory observation. Everyone’s house has a certain smell to it. What kind of smell it is differs from home to home.
I dated a guy in high school whose mom was a clean freak. Every corner of their house reeked of Lysol. I guess you at least knew it was clean. I once looked at a house for sale that smelled like a giant mothball. Stepping across the threshold of that house felt like being slammed directly in the snoot by a wrecking ball made of a million mothballs. I don’t think the house ever sold. No big mystery there.
The oh-so-lovely Jennifer over at Take2Mommy wrote about house scents last Friday, and I felt compelled to talk about my house.
And its smell.
Er, scent.
Smell would imply that it’s less than pleasing to your nose holes.
Which it isn’t.
I hope.
[Sidebar: For about three days after I cook fish, Mr. Wombat comes home from work declaring the place stinks of fish. At that point, I no longer smell it. Perhaps I should take that as a directive to get out of the house more. Or find a better way to clear the fishy air.]
I run around like a Supermarket Sweep contestant prior to entertaining guests (I’ll also note for the record that people don’t come over very often for this reason). My daily clutter level would make Martha Stewart’s blonde bob spin, so prepping for visitors is no small task around here.
Much like Jennifer, one thing I worry about is the smell of my house. We all know our house has a smell scent, but unless it’s something pungent like last night’s chicken dinner scraps brewing in the kitchen trash, we don’t really know what everyone else smells when they walk through our front door.
At Chez Wombat, Schmoopy sleeps fairly near the front door. The wall-to-wall carpeting surrounding her orthopedic old lady bed is her own personal towel on which she can roll and writhe to rid her fur of any moisture or mud collected during her outdoor rolling and writhing exercises. It’s also quite effective at ridding her fur of extra fur.
I vacuum this area thoroughly in an attempt to eliminate any dog hair or evidence of the great outdoors. Sometimes I sprinkle baking soda on it first and let it sit. After I vacuum, I feel the need to cover up the smell of “dog fur that’s been in the vacuum cleaner bag for far too long.” If you own a dog and a vacuum, you and your nose are familiar with this smell that fills the air as soon as you press the “on” button.
This is definitely not the smell you wish visitors to identify as your “house scent.”
Enter the freshening routine.
Even if it’s tundra cold out, I always try to get a little fresh air in here. Then I light the candle under my scented oil burner and let it work in a couple rooms for a few minutes each. I use mandarin orange oil, since it’s such a sweet, fresh smell. Sometimes we’ll even put a little grapefruit or orange rind down the disposal to disperse even more citrusy goodness into the air. I try to use natural smells to freshen up the house. I know someone who used to simmer cinnamon sticks and spices on the stove and it smelled wonderful!
Sometimes your house scent tags along with you like the kid brother you were always trying to shake. After cooking something like fish, bacon, or sausage, I fear that everyone standing near me in line can smell it, too. These lingering odors call for extra airing out and freshening. Pronto.
Maybe you enjoy smelling like it, but haven't cooked bacon today.
The only thing worse than having a doggy smell problem or bacon-infused home is the unfortunate (albeit adorable) combination of the two:
Source
What about you? Do you do anything special to enhance the scent of your abode?
