By
Joan Whetzel
Many years ago, on a Saturday, my husband had taken the kids out for
the day. While they were gone, I spent the afternoon roasting my first chicken,
to be served with mashed potatoes and corn. The bounded through the back door
as I was pulling the chicken out of the oven.
“MMM! It smells like Thanksgiving,” my son said.
“We could smell out on the driveway, before we even came into the
house,” added my husband.
It was a wet cold winter day, which made the meal smell even better.
Ever since that day, whenever it’s cold, whenever it’s rainy, this is one of
the meals I consider making. My kids, and now my grandkids, still love this
meal.
There are other smells that bring back memories for me, like the smell
of burn toast crumbs in the bottom of the toaster and coffee brewing. This
reminds me of Grandma Pauken’s kitchen. Whenever we went up to Ohio for summer
vacation, morning breakfast usually consisted of toasted raisin bread with the
icing on top and the sound of coffee gurgling in the percolator. And on Sundays,
the whole family would come over after church – aunts, uncles, cousins, and
there’d be more coffee and Grandma’s homemade pecan rolls. Adults talking,
fussing at the kids not to slam the screen door, the kids not hearing any of it
in their rush to go outside and play.
For my kids, the smell of wassail simmering on the stove and waffle
cookies means Christmas is coming and it’s time to decorate the tree. It’s time
to help me stack the cookies – only after taste testing half of them first.
Hey, the best ones are those that are hot off the waffle cookie maker.
If anybody reading this has memories attached to certain smells, I
expect to hear from you.
I love the smells that remind me of Grandma's house! I can literally "smell" the house in my mind, if that makes sense. I can "smell" the sweet smell of the bedding in the middle upstairs bedroom. I can "see" the paint chips in the upstairs bathroom on the tile. I can "hear" the sound of a little metal tractor/tricycle on the slats of the front porch. But one of my favorite memories of Grandma's and Grandpa's house was the soft silky hair on Grandpa's head. When you touched it, he purred. LOVE!!!
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