Hurricane, Come and Go

Go Away, Irene! Scat! G'wan!!

By March (yes!  it’s true!  I posted this on Saturday, with a Sunday update at bottom.  We are fine, just a little yard cleanup.  Hope the rest of the East Coast Posse is too.)

The air is heavy and still this morning, overcast – not Irene herself knocking at my door, but the weather she pushed ahead of her.  It still feels ominous, no birdsong from the trees.  I gave up on the morning paper and decided to write while the electricity’s still on.

Like my east coast brethren and sistern, I’ve hunkered down.  Spent the last three days in measured preparation – batteries, flashlights, non-perishable foods, gasoline in the cars, gasoline for the generator blah blah (I skipped the extra toilet paper; what is that all about?  Actually, don’t answer that.)  I reacquainted myself with the mysterious workings of the generator, which is now locked and loaded.  Well, actually, it’s chained to the side of the house and blockaded by my SUV (a precaution against thieves, not the wind).  We’ve taken down and stowed everything outside that I can envision as a projectile in 100-mph winds.

They keep messing with us, forecast-wise.  First it was kind of … eh.  Then they upgraded.  Then Kate, who lives on the eastern shore, called to tell me the watermen were pulling their boats.  If you live near the coast, you understand that level of code-dire immediately.  The watermen do not pull their boats for any little ol’ blow.  That’s when I got busy double-checking the windows, revising our sleeping arrangements, and pre-loading the generator.

A hurricane smells like Karma.  No, I’m not saying I deserve it – who the hell deserves an angry visit from Ma Nature?  This, the same week we had that bizarro mid-Atlantic earthquake?  Whiskey tango foxtrot, people.  (Also while I’m being completely random, my understanding is we completely misuse the word karma in its proper meaning.)  No, a hurricane smells … faintly and creepily of ozone in the distance, although maybe that’s my imagination.  The bird-absence does disturb me.  I’m talking about LUSH Karma, which I reviewed here, describing it as “an inky-green scent somewhere between vetiver and pine, with a pale-straw-citrus note of lemongrass and a resiny base.”  That was the spray-on.  In the push-up solid it seems sweeter….  like if they made a lemongrass-incense birch beer.  I wouldn’t want to drink it, but it smells wonderful, and completely weird.

In the meantime, there’s the EdP of Guerlain Jicky sent from a dear, dear friend – didn’t Luca Turin say it’s closest to the original, intended smell of Jicky?   Any Jicky fans know the huge difference between the lemony effervescence of the EdT and the heavy-lidded skank of the parfum… you know, this middle ground smells like I’d stomped through a field of Martian lavender, and the girls detested it.  I gave myself three (okay, four) unhealthy sprays before heading off for errands the day of the earthquake, and I did get a couple funny looks.  I have a theory that to some people it smells like household cleaner – like, I just took a break from scrubbing the bathroom tiles from top to bottom to run to CVS for a hot minute because I realized I was out of toilet paper.   What version of Jicky do I prefer?  I prefer all of them.  I think I’ve decided, after much experimentation, that the EdT layered over the parfum is the most lethal my personal favorite.

Mariage Freres Marco Polo Tea – no, no, that’s not a new perfume.  Lawl – I can see you hardcore perfumistas jumping onto google (Mariage Freres now has a fragrance line?!  Who do I know in Paris….)   Nope, somebody sent me a care package with Marco Polo tea in it.  I like tea.  This tea smells and tastes divine.  I am no tea connoisseur.  I also got a mixed tea care-package from another sweetheart with good summer herbals (like raspberry for iced), and some interesting chais, and I saved the USPS shipper box so I can smell it.   The only common teas I don’t like are the Greys, Lady and her husband the Earl (although I like bergamot just fine in perfume), and lapsang, which I adore in perfume and in tea is like drinking through a dirty sock.

HOWEVER.  I’m going to close today’s random perfume, freak-of-nature, and March-resurrection post with this hot tip from me to you tea freaks out there – my friends went camping, and they stuffed all their teas into a Zip-Lock bag for a week, mixing her lapsang and his Twinings English Breakfast together.  I brewed myself some English Breakfast at her house when they got back, then spent three minutes huffing it in ecstasy, and she finally understood my incoherent moany questions and explained how she did it — make a faintly smoky English Breakfast.  So – if you’d like to experiment, take your favorite black tea, tuck it in a sandwich baggie with some lapsang for a day or three, wait till the smell transfers a bit, and brew the black tea.  Yeah, yeah, some of you tea queens are already making mental workarounds for the fact that I used tea bags (quelle horreur!) and Twinings (le monsieur yuck!) but the concept’s still worth exploring.

PS apologies, this isn’t proofread as carefully as usual.  Also, they keep comparing this storm to Isabel, and if they’re right, DC will be shut down for the better part of two weeks.  I hope they’re wrong.

Sunday Morning Update — we’re fine!  Power never went off, basement is dry.  Heavy rain and 35 – 40mph winds most of the night.  Lots of leaf litter but surprisingly little damage in the immediate area, except for two trees down from our neighbor across the street.  Glad I didn’t park there.  Still gusty.  Fingers crossed for NYC and the rest of the north...