The downside of living in a humid climate, especially after a lot of rain, is dealing with the smell of humid stuff. Stuff that got wet and stayed wet for too long.
The morning after I got back I was sweeping in the hall. I detected a stinky smell right around the dresser. I kneeled down to check it out, thinking maybe the cats had pushed a dead gecko under there or something. I couldn't decide where the smell was coming from, so I kept on sweeping. Once in a while I'd drift through the hallway to take a whiff, but it seemed clear. Hmmm...
Wednesday I went to Cancun. As Miguel was driving me into town on the golf cart, he blew through a huge puddle and I got sprayed from head to toe. The water was not sewer water, but I think it had a funky smell. My feet stayed damp, and by the time I was nearly done running my errands with Luis, our taxi driver, I realized that my feet were smelling. I covered them up with my tote bag while in the cab, hoping Luis would not notice. When I got home I forgot about my feet, but that night I had a bath and gave them a good scrub.
I should have scrubbed my crocs as well, as they were the real problem - more than my feet. So after my morning bath yesterday I tossed the crocs out onto the back terrace along with my other smelly crocs and dug up a new pair of sandals. For good measure I sprinkled my feet with baby powder.
Yesterday morning I was sweeping again and this time the smell was around the bedroom door. There was nothing there. Finally I sniffed the broom. Phew! It smelled like stinky feet. I bet when the drain backed up when the winds pushed the water backwards, that the broom was sitting in that water in the laundry room. Later Miguel confirmed it - yes, my precious broom, the one I hide from the cleaning lady, had been violated. I placed the broom by the back door, intending to give it a good wash later in the day.
I decided to take a rest in the hammock. Miguel had moved the hammocks inside during all the rain last week, but they were damp and he just left them in a ball on the table. I had put them out to dry and thought no more of it. Until I got into the hammock. Then I was overpowered by the smell of stinky feet. HOW could my feet still smell? They were clean, and they were baby-powder fresh!
The smell was the hammock. How could Miguel have laid in there reading his paper? I think my nose is more sensitive, I couldn't take it. So I took the hammock and dunked it in soapy water in the tub, and then hung it back up to dry, hoping the fresh air and clean water had taken care of the odor.
Later I was in the kitchen making stew. There was a rotten smell near the sink. I thought it must be food caught in the trap so dumped bleach down the drain. As I peeled potatoes I continued to smell the odor, and finally tracked it down to a rotting pepper sitting in the colander. I moved the pepper to our recycling plate, intending to take out all the scraps after I'd finished the potatoes.
This morning as I swept in the kitchen I smelled it again. "I really must put some acid down that drain", I thought. But the smell seemed to be under the counter, not in the sink. So I sniffed away but could not locate the exact area of the smell. Finally I realized it was the chili pepper that was still sitting on the plate, buried in potato peelings that I'd forgotten to take out the night before. Out went the plate, and whew - that one is finally resolved.
While I was out dumping the scraps, I checked the hammock. Still stinky. So now it is soaking in a tub full of soap and Flash - the cinnamon smelling red stuff. Later I will take it upstairs and put it in the sun to dry. If that doesn't fix the hammock, nothing will.
So I'm off to wash my shoes and the broom. And then our house should be back to smelling nice and fresh. I hope!