Making Scents of Life

Discussion in 'Et Cetera, Et Cetera' started by drgirth, Aug 31, 2007.

  1. drgirth

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    Scents wasn't a typo. It is said that one's sense of smell is most closely associated with memory, and I am convinced it is true. Tonight I was cooking dinner for my lady and I and, when I went to get some spices, I noticed the little container of cloves. It hadn't been opended since last Christmas eve. When I opened it, the whole kitchen was filled with it and I swear in 5 seconds every memory of every Christmas ran through my mind - from my mother's kitchen in the 60's till now. And I started thinking of other scents of my life . . . .

    Honeysuckle. Growing up in the Appalachian mountains in the SE US, it was everywhere in the summer. When I smell it now, my childhood of 40 years ago seems so fresh.

    My adult scent is a weird one - wet dog. I never had children of my own and, at 51, I never will. So my dogs have been my children. Whenever my dog (Betsy the Basset) gets wet, my other dogs of my adult life come to life. I've been lucky in that my two other dogs lived to ripe old ages. When Betsy is wet, old Newton and Jackson are with me again.

    As a chemist, most of my sense of smell is rubbish. But these three are magical. How about yours?
     
  2. Principessa

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    Honeysuckle is also a personal fave and takes me back to my nana and pop-pop's house. My cousins and I would fill her pots with the pale yellow and white flowers and suck the sweet nectar from them as we sat barefoot on her front porch.

    Coast and Zest deodorant soaps reminds me of a particularly wretched family vacation back in 1979 or 1980. Why mom decided to stock the rented Winnebago with soaps we never used before is beyond me. To this day I cannot stand to use deodorant soaps.

    Jerry - My first serious boyfriend smoked Camel no filters, wore a brown leather bomber jacket, and wore Devin by Aramis. That combination of smells is rare but I was in a mall in Jersey a while back and a man walked by that smelled like Jerry and I stopped dead in my tracks before following him. My girlfriend was like wtf? :tongue:

     
  3. IntoxicatingToxin

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    The mixture of rain and freshly cut grass reminds me of my childhood. Just going outside to play after a long rain. *sigh* I still love that smell to this day.
     
  4. lafever

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    A womens kitty scent, what more can i add.:rolleyes:




    lafever
     
  5. Meniscus

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    Chanel No. 22 is "mom smell" to me, since that was my mother's favorite (only?) perfume when I was growing up.

    I also hate the smell of Coast deodorant soap. Awful, awful stuff. When I was in college, Drakkar Noir was a popular cologne for guys, but I couldn't understand why everyone liked the horrid stuff so much, because it smelled just like Coast deodorant soap to me.

    The scent of lilacs takes me back to childhood, to the games we'd play in my best friend's back yard.

    The scent of autumn leaves reminds me of the excitement of going back to school, meeting a new teacher and new students, getting new school clothes and school supplies, etc.

    The scent of wood smoke reminds me of gathering around the fireplace during cold New England winters, and of our black cat who would stretch out in front of the fire roasting himself.

    Various cooking smells remind me of Thanksgiving or Christmas.

    I find the scent of shaving cream very erotic. I don't quite know why. I think I associate the smell with an early sexual experience, but it's vague. Maybe it's just that I started shaving and masturbating at the same point in my life.
     
  6. naughty

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    Workin' up a good pot of mad!
    This is what I read at my 93 year old aunt's funeral. It was all in terms of fragrances and aromas .


    Scuppernong grapes

    . The first time I consciously remember eating scuppernongs was as a young girl on my paternal grandparents farm in North Carolina yet even in the first conscious taste of that special blend of tart sweetness, I knew. I had been there before. It wasn’t until sitting in my parent’s living room as an adult that I realized why they were so familiar… My mother and Aunt Flo were discussing old memories of B street and the fact that Aunt F had taught me to walk under her scuppernong grape arbor. Last week we talked about it again and she smiled her knowing smile and nodded and I then knew that the theory , at least for me, was true!
    Chanel and Lipstick
    She was for many of us a portal. Among her nieces more than a few can point to that special moment when we knew we had come of age. A bottle of Chanel no. 5 and a tube of "Cherries in the snow" lipstick was handed to us as if we had been given the keys of the kingdom and in many ways I guess they had been. To us this was a fragrance of polish and refinement . For many of us with years to go before we gained our stride it was not the validation, but the hopeful promise of successful transition to womanhood.
    Coffee and Cake
    Maxwell house coffee and freshly baked coffee cake… Aunt Flo was also a woman of definite tastes and passions. Her coffee and graciously spread table served as an invitation to civility. She reveled in sharing and exposing those behind her to the delights that she had discovered along the way. I remember many Sundays being questioned about my week and expected to respond in a clear and dignified fashion.
    Popcorn and Pizza
    Popcorn and pizza … as a child, she and uncle J spoiled us shamefully while delighting in keeping us just on the edge of terror by one gruff snort or fierce look.

    Tea and Sympathy
    Black current tea and chocolate caramels … as the years closed in and her world became increasingly smaller Aunt F found pleasure in the small things which she could still enjoy. Though her sight was faded and her hearing all but gone she savored the rich Riesens chocolate caramels and extravagantly fragrant English black currant tea that we would sip and share as she would regale us with one of her many yarns of days past. She was a veritable Scheherazade telling long winding tales of her youth on the farm and young adulthood and once again she would be transported to a time when she stood straight, tall and beautiful.
     
  7. wldhoney

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    Naughty, that was really beautiful...


    For me:

    Shalimar by Guerlain. This is my Mom's perfume and it is the only one she has ever worn. It is my Dad's favorite, and every year on Christmas she gets a new bottle from him, and every year she is excited to open it, even after over 40 years of marriage. It is always a comfort moment for me and my siblings. The look of love and memories that passes between them is a sign that all is right in the world.

    Old Spice. My Dad. I have so many memories of my Dad carrying me and hugging me, especially in his military uniform. To me he was so tall and handsome and safe, and I would lay my head on his shoulder and inhale, memorizing him whenever he had to leave on an assignment.

    Lutefiske. A love/hate scent as I hate fish, but it brings back so many memories of my maternal grandmother who was Swedish. Every Christmas she made it, and it stank! But I would still sit at her kitchen table that she had until the day she died, and watch her, tall and slim with vibrant red hair, frying her lutefiske up.

    Indian fry bread. My paternal grandmother's smell. Whenever we saw her, she always made it. Even in Alaska, when she came to visit, she would fry it up while we were camping out in the wilderness. We have pictures of us kids all lined up on a log, eating fry bread for breakfast, smeared with peanut butter and jam, and my gentle Indian grandma watching with the soft smile.

    Polo. My first boyfriend/sexual experience/love. To this day I smell it and I am transported back to his Blazer and hot, hot make-out sessions while parked by the river.

    Mulled apple cider. Add cinnamon sticks, cloves, spices and orange slices simmering on the stove. Fall is my favorite season, and it wouldn't be the same without this scent wafting thru my house. It brings back memories of Thanksgiving, family, my husband.

    The Christmas tree. Without a doubt, my favorite time of the year. I love the smell of a real fir tree. Every year without fail, the day after Thanksgiving is devoted to the hunt for a perfect tree. Saturday is for dragging out decorations, and Sunday is for sitting in front of it, covered in lights. Even as a woman, the smell of a Christmas tree makes me feel like a child again, crawling underneath it with my siblings while we tried to guess what each present was. To this day I spend at least one night downstairs, sleeping on the floor next to it with the lights flickering, making love with the man in my life.
     
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