I have this too. Like you, I can occasionally smell something strong, but most things barely at all. We used to have this cactus type flower, Queen of the Night, which would produce massive flowers which opened once for a single night - and once only - accompanied by a powerfully sweet fragrance that would stop visitors to the house in their tracks. Not me.
I've also considered, but not done, smell training.
It does mean however that I couldn't care less about perfumes and aftershaves, so that's at least a money saving benefit.
And scented candles or air fresheners? What is wrong with people?
Hail, fellow sufferer, Pip! I agree that it's convenient not to have to worry about smells, but on the other hand, I can never be altogether certain of any smell I might be producing myself. I do have people in my life whom I ask to advice me but it does help if they stay on the job. One of the high points of my marriage was the evening Mr. Los Angeles and I drove clear across town to a quite fancy party at his workplace, only to have him mention as we were pulling up to the entrance that he really - really - didn't like the smell of my new soap ...
I can fully understand your situation. I believe I had a normalish sense of smell until you know what. It's permanent it seems. This came home to me when I had a gas event, discovering I'd left an unlit burner on. I now have a methane detector in my kitchen.
It does occasionally cause me disappointment. I have two lavenders in my garden - nothing. I also miss petrichor when rain arrives after a long dry period and, more practically, my sniff test of milk past its use by date is no longer trustworthy.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Bob, I'm used to not smelling, but it must be hard to have had it and lose it. Can you still taste food? I do so hope so. What a beautiful word is petrichor - I'd never encountered it before, but then I wouldn't, would I! It sounds like a lovely experience. As for the milk issue, I'm lucky enough to have Mr. Los Angeles around to smell it for me - a task he finds every bit as edifying as you might imagine ...
Thank you Gabrielle. Food isn't quite as appealing I must confess. My taste buds are intact, but as taste combines with smell, things are different. I used to drink wine, indeed I have a WSET Level 1 award (Wine & Spirit Education Trust). Sadly, wine now does not taste nice. Such is life.
Assuming this was a recent visit, Grasse is a nice place to look at even without sniffing the perfume. In fact it may be a benefit in that there are various whiffy factories on the way up from the coast that tend to emit unpleasant odors in the process of making various soaps, perfumes and so on.
I say recent because it used to be pretty grotty and run down but sometime in the early 2000s it gentrified and tarted itself up a lot.
It seemed pretty nice when we were there, Francis, but for some reason we didn't linger to see the rest - I think we were both so thrown by the fact that we'd driven *all the way* there without either of us once considering my anosmia that we just wanted to head out of town! Maybe one day we'll go back and explore it properly...
I'm somewhat alarmed by this, Suzy - we shared that cramped little garret for quite a long time and it gives me some pause to reflect that my dissembling skills were apparently quite so advanced! I don't think I ever lied about anything else though, although you never did believe me on that day when your cheerful morning self thought it would be amusing to telephone my grumpy morning self from a telephone box to sing "Good morning, good morning to you," and you swore blind I'd hung up on you in a huff when God's honest truth was that we had been cut off by some other means ... Maybe it was God's judgement on me for the smell secret.
I have this too. Like you, I can occasionally smell something strong, but most things barely at all. We used to have this cactus type flower, Queen of the Night, which would produce massive flowers which opened once for a single night - and once only - accompanied by a powerfully sweet fragrance that would stop visitors to the house in their tracks. Not me.
I've also considered, but not done, smell training.
It does mean however that I couldn't care less about perfumes and aftershaves, so that's at least a money saving benefit.
And scented candles or air fresheners? What is wrong with people?
Hail, fellow sufferer, Pip! I agree that it's convenient not to have to worry about smells, but on the other hand, I can never be altogether certain of any smell I might be producing myself. I do have people in my life whom I ask to advice me but it does help if they stay on the job. One of the high points of my marriage was the evening Mr. Los Angeles and I drove clear across town to a quite fancy party at his workplace, only to have him mention as we were pulling up to the entrance that he really - really - didn't like the smell of my new soap ...
Well I never knew that about you and we shared a flat in London! Xx
I can fully understand your situation. I believe I had a normalish sense of smell until you know what. It's permanent it seems. This came home to me when I had a gas event, discovering I'd left an unlit burner on. I now have a methane detector in my kitchen.
It does occasionally cause me disappointment. I have two lavenders in my garden - nothing. I also miss petrichor when rain arrives after a long dry period and, more practically, my sniff test of milk past its use by date is no longer trustworthy.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Bob, I'm used to not smelling, but it must be hard to have had it and lose it. Can you still taste food? I do so hope so. What a beautiful word is petrichor - I'd never encountered it before, but then I wouldn't, would I! It sounds like a lovely experience. As for the milk issue, I'm lucky enough to have Mr. Los Angeles around to smell it for me - a task he finds every bit as edifying as you might imagine ...
Thank you Gabrielle. Food isn't quite as appealing I must confess. My taste buds are intact, but as taste combines with smell, things are different. I used to drink wine, indeed I have a WSET Level 1 award (Wine & Spirit Education Trust). Sadly, wine now does not taste nice. Such is life.
I'm sorry to hear that, Bib, it's a loss and I feel for you.
Sorry - Bob!
Assuming this was a recent visit, Grasse is a nice place to look at even without sniffing the perfume. In fact it may be a benefit in that there are various whiffy factories on the way up from the coast that tend to emit unpleasant odors in the process of making various soaps, perfumes and so on.
I say recent because it used to be pretty grotty and run down but sometime in the early 2000s it gentrified and tarted itself up a lot.
It seemed pretty nice when we were there, Francis, but for some reason we didn't linger to see the rest - I think we were both so thrown by the fact that we'd driven *all the way* there without either of us once considering my anosmia that we just wanted to head out of town! Maybe one day we'll go back and explore it properly...
I'm somewhat alarmed by this, Suzy - we shared that cramped little garret for quite a long time and it gives me some pause to reflect that my dissembling skills were apparently quite so advanced! I don't think I ever lied about anything else though, although you never did believe me on that day when your cheerful morning self thought it would be amusing to telephone my grumpy morning self from a telephone box to sing "Good morning, good morning to you," and you swore blind I'd hung up on you in a huff when God's honest truth was that we had been cut off by some other means ... Maybe it was God's judgement on me for the smell secret.