Skip to content

First impression of the gents and giants of Les Pierres

Trust my husband to bring the outside in when I’m too preoccupied myself with all things baby, juggling the heap of toys this most spoiled brat of the moment is rewarded with, in a fun but instructional way to not raise him a destroyer. Not only did he bring me freshly picked flowers, but his walk apparently lured him into a serious reflection on our all male household.
“They must think we hate women…”

Never one to worry much about ‘their’ opinions like that, little can you do to influence the unmanageable, I managed to convince him that hate would not be anyone’s first impression of the gents and giants of Les Pierres and their habitually well-intentioned loveliness, but his remark planted a seed anyway, as they so often do, steering my further train of daily thoughts towards masculinity.
Furthermore, the man brought me Malva Moschata, known as Musk Mallow, flowering surprisingly late, and despite what their color suggests, their fragrance scatters the distinct vibes of what one could call pretty manly stuff.

In the old days the musky smell used for cologne, a heavy base note scent regularly related to woodsy and earthy undertones, was harvested from a glandular sack about the size of a golf ball from a male musk deer, dried into a pod that once broken open revealed the aromatized grain, to be soaked in alcohol thus producing the penetrating scent, originally meant, obviously, to attract a life mate.

Renowned perfume makers, before being able to use more sustainable and cheaper synthetic chemicals that mimic the odor, discovered the same scent in other animals, like the muskox, musk shrew and the musk beetle and, rather specific and definitely foul but on topic as well, in the vomit of a sperm whale. We had a good laugh trying to imagine how that aha-moment came about, almost as hilarious a visualization as the dried beavers balls we once saw draped from the ceiling in a deserted Canadian wood cabin on tv, evidently responsible for the aroma in vanilla ice cream.

I bet pink flowers brought home by one’s sweetheart would conjure up very different associations in a woman, but it’s the thought that counts and my appreciation for the intention is as real.

0 0 votes
Rate this post
Notify of

Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

Trying to make ones life sustainable is more than a personal choice and almost automatically leads to a multitude of decisions you have never even thought of before. On this website we share what works for us, or woefully no longer works, obviously without claiming the same for you.

We hope that our journey towards a supplementary comprehensive celebration of nature’s beauty might just clear a pathway forward for you too, perhaps challenges a revealing reconsideration, or simply provides for an equally indispensable diversion.

Can we change the world through food? We believe we can and we support Slow Food, a global movement of local communities and activists across more than 160 countries. Together we defend cultural and biological diversity, promote food education and the transfer of traditional knowledge and skills.

Cookie Consent with Real Cookie Banner