Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Frankie and Slim
Happy New Year
Monday, April 29, 2019
SUNSHINE SHEETS
Question Of The Week 04-29-19
What odors awaken special loving memories for you?
(Fresh baked bread, frying chicken, cigar or pipe aroma, sunshine sheets, newly mowed grass, etc. )
Line dried washing. Cinnamon. Lavender (and the last reminds me of a B&B I stayed at where they dried their bed linen on lavender bushes in the sun). Bliss.
Mum's apple strudel on Sundays, freshly turned earth when we planted carrots and radishes, sunshine sweet clothes as mum loaded up my outstretched arms to carry stuff inside.
Annie--- be sure to mark that mumbai bozo as spam in your comment moderation in your dashboard.... That will keep him away at least for a while. Yes--- cut grass or hay lots of memories.
The smell of tomatoes reminds me of my granddad & his greenhouse on his allotment where he grew wonderful tomatoes. I spent lots of time with him there sampling the stuff he grew on the allotment, strawberries, gooseberries, pea pods and the little yellow tomatoes he grew especially for me.
Where do I start....after a dry spell the smell from rain settling dusty surrounds...freshly-ground coffee beans...onions frying....are just a few of my favourites....
love warm baked cookie smell, brownies, a new car, lavender. and yes, I'm back to blogging, but at my old blogger site: https://agentlebreeeze.blogspot.com/
Apples and oranges together. They are the smell of Christmas from my early childhood.
ReplyDeleteFreshly cut hay in a Colorado field. Lilacs blooming in the spring. Baby oil smells.
ReplyDeleteI like the smell of baby powder - not sure why - feels safe.
ReplyDeleteLine dried washing. Cinnamon. Lavender (and the last reminds me of a B&B I stayed at where they dried their bed linen on lavender bushes in the sun). Bliss.
ReplyDeletegardenias, star jasmine, sheets hung in the sun to dry, saddle leather, horses, dogs & babies...
ReplyDeleteSweet olive. It smells like heaven to me.
ReplyDeleteMum's apple strudel on Sundays, freshly turned earth when we planted carrots and radishes, sunshine sweet clothes as mum loaded up my outstretched arms to carry stuff inside.
ReplyDeleteAnnie--- be sure to mark that mumbai bozo as spam in your comment moderation in your dashboard.... That will keep him away at least for a while. Yes--- cut grass or hay lots of memories.
ReplyDeleteYo tengo un olor muy especial que me recuerda a mi marido, y otro olor a mi madre.
ReplyDeleteA barn full of fresh hay, puppy breath, saddle leather, and orange blossoms.
ReplyDeleteFresh mowed grass, freesias, puppy breath
ReplyDeleteThe smell of tomatoes reminds me of my granddad & his greenhouse on his allotment where he grew wonderful tomatoes. I spent lots of time with him there sampling the stuff he grew on the allotment, strawberries, gooseberries, pea pods and the little yellow tomatoes he grew especially for me.
ReplyDeleteWhere do I start....after a dry spell the smell from rain settling dusty surrounds...freshly-ground coffee beans...onions frying....are just a few of my favourites....
ReplyDeleteRoses, Lilacs- My mother.
ReplyDeleteenjoy smelling lavender, and Thyme herbs always. Like to pick it n put in a shirt pocket to keep smelling it.
Sigh... Unfortunately, I've lost a lot of my sense of smell. I do miss smelling roses though.
ReplyDeletelove warm baked cookie smell, brownies, a new car, lavender. and yes, I'm back to blogging, but at my old blogger site: https://agentlebreeeze.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteThe smell of fear of my enemies when I triumph! Nah, probably brownies...
ReplyDeleteRain...
ReplyDeleteHay. Both freshly cut or dry and baled.
ReplyDeleteGrandad's pipe. Dad's fags. Grandma's freshly ironed linen.
ReplyDelete