Scentless Spring

I inherited my grandmother's nose. Or rather I should say that I inherited the ability of her nose to smell. She could smell odors that no one else around her could. She could sniff out a baby needing a change blocks away.
She could tell when a cake in the oven was done just from the amount of vanilla in the air.
One of the joys in life for me is going to bed in the evening and smelling the lilacs blooming outside the bedroom window. The fragrance in so strong and intoxicating to me I can hardly go to sleep. It's one of my favorite moments of spring.

This spring has been different. I've have been entertaining a cold virus for three weeks now -- the exact same three weeks that the lilacs have been blooming. I CAN'T SMELL THEM!


Along with the ability to smell this cold has robbed me of the ability to taste. I can only taste salty and sour foods. I've discovered that I can live contently without being able to smell food cooking on the stove or the sweet taste of a piece of chocolate cake. It makes it easy to eat just a couple of bites and leaving the rest.

But, I do miss the lilacs and am disappointed that I'll have to wait until next year to enjoy their full beauty -- sight and smell.
rita