This blog was inspired by Ms. Hedda's blog.
As a kid, I would linger at my grandmother's side as she got ready for the day. She would put a moisturizer on her face and I came to associate the smell of Noczema with her. She only smelled briefly of it as she applied it and the smell faded as the day wore on, but those intimate moments, where she joked around with me where the best.
Touch: Sometimes, my grandmother would ride in the back of the car with us as we went - I assume - to church. I remember, in winter, she would wear this gorgeous fur coat with very long hair. I would bury my face in it because I loved the caress of it on my skin. I would just smile and hum, content as a cat.
The smell of independance: My first apartment was gas-heated.
The smell of freedom: the smell as I rode for hours on my bike with the feel of the wind on my face.
English Cucumbers
10 months ago
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1 comment:
Ah, grandmothers... So nice to read about your sensory memories.
We can certainly take this association thing so far!
I don't have a smell to associate with independence, but the areas of downtown Bank St and Rideau St does it for me, visually. My first time living on my own (Single Girl in the Big City) was downtown, and I loved the walks along these streets to and from errands and home. I felt so grown up. Whenever I'm there now, I feel invigorated by the grit, rather than depressed by it.
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