Can You Smell That Smell?
GAH!!! I put cute little cedar balls in my sweater box. So today, I’m wearing something that smells to me like cedar cat litter. I mean, it only smells like cedar. But for some reason, that smell reminds me not of my mummy’s cedar chest, but of that organic cat litter that my cats would never use. Why this is now hard-wired into my brain, only my brain knows.
In other news, one of the folks in my neighborhood who had sported a yard sign for McCain/Palin is now sporting a hand-made sign. Black background, red letters that read: God Bless America. I thought you were supposed to keep the pointy hats and sheets in the back closet, and not on the front lawn? Maybe it isn’t racist. Maybe it’s just a sore loser who thinks that we’ve gone to the dark side? Oh. Dark. Racist. Uh, maybe it’s just a sore loser who thinks that the country has gone to the infidels? Which would be bigotry based on religion? Whatever. Bigotry is bigotry, whatever triggers the hatred and fear. Color. Religion. Politics. Country of origin.
Maybe it’s sincere. Maybe the resident is glad the whole thing is over, and not unhappy with the result, despite a preference for the other side.
I was flying from Boston to Knoxville on Wednesday, and everyone everywhere in MA, GA, and TN seemed happy.
Regarding the first part of your blog, The random quote that came up at the same time was more appropriate than any other I have seen here.
“When from a long distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised for a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unfaltering, in the almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.” - Marcel Proust
Certain smells always remind me of certain people, places, and times of the year. Don’t ever lose that sense of personal history or you will lose yourself.