The smell of roast dinner cooking always reminds me of my childhood. In my mind’s eye I can see my Nan, big and shiny, moving around the kitchen with pots and pans.
My Grandfather would come home from his “two pints” at the pub and chase us around. As we ran through the kitchen my Nan would be trying to wallop us while hold scalding pans and my Great Nan would be shouting, “Cossacks, Cossacks!”.
We would all sit and eat together and the best bit was mopping up the gravy with a slice of bread. Bliss!
My Grandad had a special smell all to himself. Old Spice and Whiskey, a mixture I still find comforting. You tended to get a good whiff if you made a noise during the News. He would call us to him and use the pressure points just below our ears to render us unconscious! My sister and I would pass out to the sound of our Grandmother screaming,
“Louis, You will give them brain damage”… But he got to watch the news in peace.
The smell I associate with my Dad is wood shavings and damp brick dust. I think I must get my love of Bitumen and Creosote from him too!
My Nan smelled of all things Avon! Especially a perfume that came in a bottle shaped like a Swan with a gold crown for a lid!
My Great Nan smelled of Deep Heat, Mackeson stout and sweeties!
The weird thing is, I associate no smell with my Mum. None at all. I suppose that is telling, in it’s own way.
The reason I’m on this subject (Schnee will love this!) is that I smelled my Nan’s perfume today. Avon haven’t made it for years, I checked! And she has been dead over 20! No one else was in. I just walked into an invisible cloud of it. There were no temperature changes, no unseen hands touching me. It just made me smile instantly.
I’m sure that there is a perfectly logical explanation but I like the idea that she looks in on me occasionally. Because of her, my first 10 years were blissfully happy and as the Jesuits say, “Give me the boy until he is seven and I will give you the man” (although, with what we now know about some Catholic priests, it sounds a bit sinister!)
2 comments:
Yeah, that your Nan visits you IS the logical explanation. Why wouldn't she?
Still, if you could get your grandad to visit too and do the thing behind the ears when you want to go to sleep, that might be quite helpful :)
It would be real handy but I think it would freak me right out, and he would only do it when the news was on!
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