I need our house to smell clean. Period. It’s why I’m obsessed with Mrs. Meyer’s cleaning products, carpet deodorizer + my Dyson (have you seen our dog and kids?), and open
california lemon tree imagewindows. Fewer things make me grumpier than a ranky smelling house. I blame my parents for this. They used to make me pick lemons from our crazy lemon tree (it still grows lemons the size of grapefruits) and grind them up in the garbage disposal to banish any unpleasantness.

A month ago Ryan and I were on a date wandering through Williams-Sonoma when the most awesome aroma lured us to the back of the store. The scent wasn’t over bearing or cheap (hello, Glade Plug-ins); it was light and clean and seriously one of the most pleasant, inviting smells to ever cross paths with our noses. At the time we were just a few days away from moving to Vegas, so all I could think was that I wanted our new rental house to smell like that, even if it was just in the downstairs half-bath. Ryan agreed, so we braced ourselves to pay whatever crazy price Williams-Sonoma was putting on our new happy scent.

When it came down to it, the Fluer De Sel Essential Oils Fragrance Diffuser was responsible for the verbena/juniper/lily/cedar/sandlewood goodness wafting
around the store, so we grabbed the box, ignored the $24.50 price tag, and took it to the wrap desk. One of the ladies working there told us she’s obsessed with the smell, too, and that the little bottle of wonderfulness will last us a few months.

Sold.

The Fluer De Sel scent is also available in candle and soap form, so check those out, too…for yourself or for a blogger you know who has a decade-changing birthday coming up in May. 🙂

Fluer De Sel scent

“Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains; another, a moonlit beach; a third, a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years. Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once.”

~Diane Ackerman