Memories and scents.
They say that scents trigger our memories. This is true for me. I started reading this book on Friday. It is a memoir of a man who grew up in my hometown during the same time I did. It was fun to see my town through his filter. It's not the same as mine but close enough that I can see myself. It got me thinking about what I remember of that time. I remember the smell of Play-Do when you open the lid. It has almost a flour smell that makes me smile and think of hours spent creating great works of art only to roll them back into a ball. Dry Kool-Aid and Tang bring back summer days when we mixed up batches to drink and fill into paper Dixie cups to freeze for later. I can close my eyes and feel the sticky cold treat run down my fingers. The smell of damp sand ,kind of a dirt tang , and the feel of it stuck to my hands and legs. Still miss my sand box. Lol.
The smell from a thousand campfires. My childhood was one grand camping adventure. During the summer we would go to the parks and pitch the tent midweek. Dad,Gram amd Gramps would commute till Friday night and then Aunt,Uncles and cousins would all join in. We had huge groups of people around big fires. Food was a community project and the smell of roasted marshmallows still make my mouth water. A smoky wood fire still brings back a feeling of love and family. Every week my Great Uncle would have a few beers and recite The poem Face on the bar room floor. One night I put my chucks to close to the fire and the smell of melting rubber is another fond memory.
I so glad that I had those special times and it is even better when a stray scent comes my way and I can again recall those days and family. So many are gone now and it is up to those left behind to cronicle those times.
The smell from a thousand campfires. My childhood was one grand camping adventure. During the summer we would go to the parks and pitch the tent midweek. Dad,Gram amd Gramps would commute till Friday night and then Aunt,Uncles and cousins would all join in. We had huge groups of people around big fires. Food was a community project and the smell of roasted marshmallows still make my mouth water. A smoky wood fire still brings back a feeling of love and family. Every week my Great Uncle would have a few beers and recite The poem Face on the bar room floor. One night I put my chucks to close to the fire and the smell of melting rubber is another fond memory.
I so glad that I had those special times and it is even better when a stray scent comes my way and I can again recall those days and family. So many are gone now and it is up to those left behind to cronicle those times.