Tonight I'll be taking an inventory of the essential oils that I have. Right now most of them are carefully packed away so it'll be like Christmas opening everything up!
Well, hopefully tonight if those Oompa Loompas would ever fall asleep. If I let them come down into the dungeon with me they'll be wanting to open bottles up and get their hands into everything. I still haven't recovered from the time Oompa Loompa #1 and #2 found my hidden stash of rare and precious oils, some of them gifts from Jeanne Rose and other very special people. The kids were how old....oh, lemme think. #1 was probably 5 and #2 was 3. Seems they decided that they were going to 'blend' oils just like mommy does!
The little darlings blended Spikenard, Zdravetz, Jasmine, Bulgarian Rose, Neroli and a very special Patchouli all over their art table. Oh, the memory of it is going to give me the vapors! Where are my smelling salts?? I can't think about it anymore or I'll end up throwing myself on the floor in a fit and have to surely be admitted to the loony bin to hang out with Baby Jane.
Thankfully I still have an obnoxious amount of essential oils, especially since there are some oils that I hoard. (Yes! Just as I do with my vintage art supplies!) As my grandma and mom would say, "No tienes veruenza! Meaning: You have no shame! Know what? They're right. I don't. ha!
My private reserve Patchouli that is over 10 years old now. mmmm, mmmmm! If you don't know what aged Patchouli smells like - don't expect it to smell like the stereotypical Patchouli scent of wet earth, smelly hippies and bad incense. (Please, no hate mail from those over 60. We all know that you know what I mean!)
Aged Patchouli becomes the part of a perfume that makes you feel as if you've been kissed by an angel's wings and it's sillage keeps you looking for just one more kiss.
Of course, it would be a kiss from a fallen angel.......hehheh! Yeah, good luck trying to get THAT oil from me. Although I do have perfume blends that are made from it, one in particular that is quite wicked indeed.
Jeanne Rose had a mystical, magical, stunning Patchouli that was well over 30 years old. I used to love to open the bottle and sniff/inhale it like a crack fiend who had finally lost their marbles.
Unfortunately - something happened to it during one of Jeanne Rose's fabulous Perfume Workshops and alas! It is no more. Good thing I wasn't at that workshop - I'd have probably *accidently* had to push the offender out of the attic window. . . .
Well it's now 11pm and 2 out of 3 Oompa Loompas are still awake. I suppose the inventory will have to wait until tomorrow morning. I'm sure there will be things to write about after that feat is accomplished! (Maybe even some pictures. Maybe.)
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