Perhaps it has something to do with being Canadian, the notion of enjoying all the different seasons.
There are things I like about each of them and I appreciate them each in their own time. I wouldn’t want to live with spring, summer or fall for the whole year (winter all year is definitely not an option).
This concept should apply to seasonal themes, too. I don’t know about you but I don’t need to have pumpkin spice invade the character of everything from muffins to lattes to marshmallows to body lotions for three to four months of the year. Just because Starbucks decided it was a good idea, doesn’t mean everyone else has to jump on that bandwagon.
It’s fun to have the aroma, and sometimes the flavour of cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger waft through my life for a few weeks as the leaves fall. And that’s enough.
I prefer a bit more discretion. I don’t mind if anyone else wants to use pumpkin spice any time of year, I just don’t need it promoted everywhere.
All year long I find little things I save as gifts for birthdays or Christmas, but when I see an ad for Christmas supplies before late November, it turns me off.
I propose a monthly calendar for sensory themes. What do you think of this?
January: Roasted veggies, chilies, the aromas of a hearty soup, warming and colourful, but healthy after our indulgences from the holiday season.
February: Chocolate, hot cocoa, more as a reward for surviving winter than for Valentine’s Day.
March: Pineapple and coconut. Let’s face it, you’re either on a winter holiday at spring break or you wish you were.
April: Fresh herbs, rhubarb I could say lambs and bunnies but they don’t really smell as wonderful as we imagine.
May: Strawberries, tulips (‘nuf said)
June: Mint, as in juleps for the Kentucky Derby, and with iced tea. Also, cucumbers and lilacs.
July: Cherries, peaches, lavender, and the smell of fresh lake or sea water (your preference). Hubbie says I should add beer here, too.
August: Tomatoes and basil, plums. I wish we could bottle a “harvest” aroma but I think one just needs to fill the kitchen with foods to be preserved and breathe deeply.
September: Apples, pears, freshly fallen leaves and of course, cinnamon, unless you like the smell of school supplies, which is fine by me.
October: Yes, this is when we have pumpkins and pumpkin spice but can you get turkey gravy as a scent? That would be great.
November: Cranberries, sage, shortbread, and the smell of a cold morning, You know, the ones, when your nose hairs get frosty.
December: Gingerbread, cloves, oranges, evergreen trees, and fresh snow. Ideally, if we could bottle the sensation of good will towards others, that would be brilliant. But gingerbread is close.
Do you get my drift? I suppose what I’m trying to convey is the idea of being present in the moment, instead of forcing what easily makes us comfortable.
Life has many cozy moments, and they are important to soak up. But I honestly believe we get the most enjoyment when we stop and look for the less familiar sparks that can twinkle right past us if we aren’t paying attention.
This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.