Stinky Cheese House

Our new house is smelly.

Now Paul will tell you that I have super olfactory skills and there might be some truth that. It's not a desirable superpower like teleportation or speed eating. Falls right below being Yard Squirrel Whistler, I think.

The previous owners had a temperamental cat, it seems {As per new neighbor. Brief aside: the neighbor has published Acrostic books. How cool is that? How do you become a published puzzle crafter? I'm fascinated.} and I think the cat misbehaved but our very responsible, military couple homeowners worked to chemically remove the offending remnants, now leaving an unusual new connocotion. This is all conjection, mind you. It could be me.

But after living somewhere for four years, I'm probably used to how my old house smelled. This possessed environment isn't bright enough to adopt to our lemony fresh scent yet. How do you exorcise the ghostly imprint of old owner-smell? Other than sticking Rejuvenate or whatever they call it sticky, floral things all over the place? How many batches of chocolate chip cookies or pies does a happy homemaker have to bake? It probably would be more efficient if my hubby could conform to my "our smell" agenda and cut back on packing the fridge with the strong French, triple-cream cheeses. I don't want the house to get confused and think that's our scent.

The image is from the book, The Stinky Cheese Man. I love that book. But don't read it in my house--yet.