Still reading zero on the smellometer

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I’ve self diagnosed and I appear to be suffering from anosmia (can’t smell) which is making hypogeusia (can’t taste) kick in. I’m guessing brought on by my Hayfever or I might actually have sinus bother. Either way, freddo the chocolate frog I had for breakast could just as well have been a slab of butter. The ‘home cooked’ risotto pie I ate out for lunch on Friday was totally wasted on me. As was the polenta cake I baked on Sunday. Blindfolded I’d have been hard pushed to tell them from each other.

And the real test – I bought a ‘vintage’ slip at Sunbury antiques market last Tuesday. It had the mothball smell that is impossible to shift – though I did try. A couple of washes will render it bearable for indoor wear. Well, I buried my nose in it and couldn’t smell a thing. Sniffing my four-year old son’s trousers after a day’s rough play is no different to breathing in the scent from my washing machine drum. Peeps, it’s so disconcerting. I feel a detachment from my life as I live it. You know how it is when you are flying and your ears haven’t popped yet but all around you everyone else’s has.

When I bought that slip, I also bought an even smellier but rather divine gold threaded scarf/tablecloth. It hasn’t got close to soap and water yet and I’m using that cloth as my control. And still not a whiff.

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