My wife has discovered essential oils. Her collection of bottles reminds me of my older brother’s childhood chemistry set, but most of what Shawn mixes has a better aroma than Rick’s stink bombs. I am learning not to complain much about aches and pains. Shawn will chase me around the house with her oil bottle to provide the cure. I feel much like the Tin Man in Oz, but must say that several of Shawn’s fixes work.
Her eucalyptus brew wafted from the atomizer with its soft blue glow and opened my breathing passages as I fought an overpowering cold. I slept like a baby. She shoved a peppermint-scented hankie under my nose during a bout with vertigo-induced nausea, and suddenly I was thinking about Christmas instead of navigating the wobbling world around me.
But Shawn’s essential oil high blood pressure remedy has returned mixed results. Does it work? Well, you be the judge.
Shawn takes a while to get ready for bed and often I am in dreamland before she finishes her nightly ablutions. I have snuggled in, warmed the blankets, and pressed my head into the pillow stack as the train accelerates toward Snooze-vile. Common courtesy would dictate that she slip into bed with as little fanfare as possible, right? What loving wife would purposefully disturb her adorable husband as he sleeps? I will tell you what kind of wife does that, a practitioner of essential oils wife, that’s what kind of wife.
Shawn’s last act before retiring is to rip up the blankets I’ve worked hard to warm and to rudely apply a swipe of ice cold something onto the bottoms of my now-slumbering feet. I get no warning. I am not graced with a courtesy query, “Honey, are you asleep yet?” Nothing. Just swosh, fwappp and zowie!
My feet are ticklish. Forget about the sub-zero temperature of that elixir. Touch my feet when I am not expecting it (and sometimes when I am), and I will explode with an immediate act of self-preservation. I guess I have not outgrown my fear of those monsters that hide under the bed and eat feet during the dark hours. I must drowsily assume that Shawn’s disturbance at the end of the bed is a taste-testing.
Of course, I’m wide awake as soon as that essential oil invades my slumber. My heart accelerates to the “Flight of Fear” level as I cartoon off the ceiling. Move over, Wiley Coyote.
Is my blood pressure reduced by such antics?
I think not, but, Shawn’s peals of laughter during her nightly prank are reducing her blood pressure. Perhaps I did not completely understand the purpose for this essential oil remedy.
I use essential oil in the shop all the time.
First up is Castrol motor oil. My father was a Valvoline man and Grandpa loved his Quaker State. I tried Castrol once and after 4000 miles the oil looked as clear and new as when it dribbled from the bottle. I’ve never gone back. I use 10W30 in the Nissan pickup, 5W20 in the Honda Accord, and SAE 30 in the lawnmower.
And then there is WD-40, a staple ranking up there with duct tape in any well-stocked shop. The company offers a file listing 2000+ Uses for WD-40, one of the most versatile inventions of the modern world. Don’t leave home or stay at home without it.
I don’t need the product often but when I do there is no substitute. The can on the left was the original from my Dad’s tool collection and still holds some of the magic elixir. I grew up with tough terrain to mow and removing the lawnmower blade for a quick sharpening often required penetrating oil to loosen the mounting nut. The stuff burns the hairs from your nostrils with its potent fumes but hey, that’s part of shop work.
WD-40 is not the right product for locks on the house or the vehicle as the oily base may attract and retain grit inside those delicate mechanisms. In those applications I prefer a silicon based product which dries quickly. An expert at Family Handyman magazine recommended the garage door lubricant to protect the all–important main spring and to keep the spinning wheels in the little tracks spinning. Knowing what that door cost the household budget I am all about keeping it pristine as long as possible.
Essential oils? I get it. I can understand Shawn’s desire to experiment with her new chemistry set. As she learns what works and what does not she will move up to Master of Essential Oil status. After all, the secret to essential oils is having a good supply and knowing how and when to use them.
I really enjoyed reading this hilarious story of your sweet wife trying to help you with her arsenal of essential oils. She is so sweet and thoughtful. I enjoy reading your stories.
Shawn is a treasure for certain. And I am thankful to have you as a faithful reader.
Thanks for the early morning read John. I’m in a good mood the rest of the day. Having a shot of Newman’s Own Organic from the Keurig machine first thing. Maybe not an oil, but it’s getting me going.
220, 221 whatever it takes, right? Thanks for your faithful support, Rob! I appreciate you, my friend.