Two Pineward Reviews :)
Shire
Hobbit in a bottle - after dark! Spiced orange wine sloshing in clattering chalices is tipped back down my throat and splashed all over my face on the first spray. Astringent citrus and heady clove step dance into my nostrils and pound their feet against my brain; when wet, this can be headache inducing. Hobbit hangover?
While the sillage could initially singe nose hairs in another hobbit hole, Shire eventually settles close to the skin. As this mead dries down, oat cake soaks up the alcohol. However, I detect no clear notes of oat or cake, only a general heaviness one could associate with a dense crumb.
Overall, though I smell the work of a kitchen witch, Shire smells much more stewed and fermented than baked. Still magical, just not the oat confection I was hoping for.
Bucolic
An epic in wool, starting matted against lamb flank - from the perspective of a mosquito lodged therein - and ending as the corner of a fleece blanket, curled around fingers so tiny all ten are needed to hold the smallest sippy cup.
What opens as bug spray (citronella) on cat dander dries down to baby powder, soft fontanelle, and the cuddliest blanket you can barely drape over your knees. I work in early childhood development and this smells like the best parts of my job. I sniff my wrist and can't help but smile. 1000000/10!