CHBM is giving away some tarts...the kind you burn, not the kind you eat or the kind of women you like to make fun of.
So in order for me to get my chance to win I'm supposed to write a post about how a certain smell transports me to another time or place.
The thing is, there are so many. And they hit at times that catch me off-guard.
My husband and I were riding our bikes on trails in the downtown area. The trails took us along the river and under bridges. As we rode under one of the overpasses I was struck by the scent. It was musty and metallic and seawater all mixed together. I was, at once, transported to New York waiting for the ferry to arrive to take us over to Governor's Island (home).
Every Autumn I'm assaulted by the scent of it. You know it, all leaves and dirt and chilled air. It also sends me in a whirlwind to my childhood. Walking to school with the leaves whipping around me, new tennis shoes tripping me up with the unscuffed treads. Walking home from a Girl Scout meeting in the dark, hurrying past the shadowy trees and counting the steps until I reached the side door of our home...the lights welcoming me. Inhaling the scent of home. Safety.
Baby powder and I'm in my Grandmother's bathroom, after she's taken a bath. There's the soap stuck on a rubber cake of miniature suction-cups. There's the back scrubber hanging from a crocheted handle. There are the vinyl flower non-slip pads in the tub. Then, I can smell my Grandfather's aftershave and feel the sting of it on my cheeks the one time I convinced him to let me try it too.
There are so many...
Thursday, August 30, 2007
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The exact same thing happens to me when I smell goldenrod. The grass surrounding my grade school's playground was full of it and EVERY time I smell it I am suddenly right back there on that playground.
Ah yes, grandmothers and baby powder. I associate these two things as well.
When my father was in his 80's he used to use baby powder after his bath too. You could always tell when dad had a bath because he would smell like baby powder.
I would wither away without my sense of smell. Thanks for sharing your memories
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