I had no plans on writing anything tonight . . . it is late . . . I am tired and I try never to force myself to write.
Then I read something that sparked a memory in me . . . a happy memory . . . and it got me thinking about the many different ways memories can be triggered for me.
Interestingly, it was a simple statement made by a wonderful blogger named Audrey, who blogs at Break It, Make it, or Bake It . She simply mentioned that one of the reasons she loves to remodel is because she loves the smell of wood.
I too love the smell of wood . . . it reminds me of my Grandfather and, to a lesser extent, my father. My Grandfather was a carpenter. He always seemed to have dust or wood chips on him somewhere and he smelled of wood. Even as I am typing this I can so clearly remember how he smelled every time he hugged me. Wow, I miss him.
I am also partial to the smell of a cologne called L'Homme because that is what my other Grandfather used all the time . . . that or Old Spice . . . this was before the Old Spice Guy made it popular for the young folk. That being said, it is more music that can take me back to spending time with this Grandfather. He loved big band music, something that he and I shared, and we would sit and talk about his time playing bass in a big band. I cannot hear Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World or anything by the Glen Miller band without thinking of him. Wow, I miss him.
Whenever I taste cream soda, which is really not all that often anymore because I find it way too sweet, I am taken back to a family camping trip where we ended up at some park that had pathways set up for roller skating. My sister and I skated around that park over and over again . . . stopping only to enjoy a cream soda. The park also had all sort of trampolines so when we weren't racing around the park on roller skates we were busily jumping like jumping beans. I loved our family camping trips . . . we saw so much of this province and probably visited each and every amusement park available. Oh yes, we hit Santa's Village, Storybook Gardens and each and every Fort there way. Wow, I so need to phone my sister but I suspect it it currently too late.
So ultimately this post is really about me sitting here focusing on some pretty happy memories . . . and smiling through tear filled eyes.