The Daily Post had a great writing prompt the other day: Humans have very strong scent memory. Tell us about a smell that transports you. There are a few smells that take me back - some to a good place, others with less positive associations. Let's start with the good smells first.
Lilacs. I love the smell of lilacs. This is one of my favourite times of the year because they are everywhere. I'll be out for a run and pass a backyard and for a few steps I am engulfed. It's such a shame their blooming season is so, so short. Then again, that is one of the things that makes them so special. Growing up we always had lilac bushes in the backyard so I associate them with some of my best childhood memories. When I smell lilacs it takes me back to carefree, sunshine-filled summers playing in the yard. Pacifica makes a lovely French Lilac perfume that is pretty darn close to the real thing. I sometimes wear it when I need a lilac fix to brighten my day.
Wicket. I should be very clear here that Wicket does not smell better than most dogs. When he's just had a bath he has a mild doggy smell, which gradually becomes more belligerent as time passes. But even though intellectually I know it's not a "good" smell, I love it. It is associated with every good and wonderful thing for me. There is nothing I love more than picking him up, bringing him close and breathing in those wonderful doggy snuggles. Would I wear a perfume that smelled like Wicket? No, of course not. That would be disgusting and I'm pretty sure human resources at work would have to talk to me about showering more often. The best part of the Wicket smell is that I can only experience it when I'm with Wicket. That's what makes it so wonderful.
Roast chicken/turkey. There is no other food smell that reminds me of home the way roast turkey or chicken does. Roast turkey reminds me of mom because I almost only ever have it when I'm with her - either she's making family dinner or I am. Roast chicken reminds me of Sunday dinners at Grandma Bahr's. Her chicken was amazing and her gravy -oy. It was so good it was mentioned in her eulogy if that's any indication. The smell of roasting bird makes me feel like I'm home and loved.
And now a couple smells I find less pleasant on an emotional level.
Hospitals. I know this is probably a universal one. I'm pretty sure no one has ever walked into a hospital and exclaimed, "Wow, this place just smells incredible". But before my surgery I was pretty neutral on it. I knew it didn't smell great but at the same time - it didn't permeate my consciousness much. It was like background noise. Now it's a reminder of my experience with cancer and all the associated fear, anxiety and pain. My work takes me into hospitals on a somewhat regular basis. I don't have a meltdown - but I do a cringe a wee bit inside. Maybe in time it will fade and have less meaning to me.
Cinnamon rolls. Anyone who has ever worked in a bakery can probably get behind me on this one. What is a delightful, magical aroma to most people is completely off-putting to a baker. Although this may be hard to believe, cinnamon rolls lose their charm by the time you've pulled your 500th tray out of the oven. (Not to mention those hot syrup burns hurt like a son of a bitch.) Add to that the fact that my time working in bakeries was during a difficult time for me personally and you can see why I gag ever so gently when that odor wafts over me in Safeway. That being said, cinnamon rolls are damn delicious. Thankfully (?) I can still enjoy eating them. On an individual basis they are still delightful. It's just when you have 6 dozen pans of them overpowering your nostrils that it's a problem for me.
The only other smell I have a strong "scent memory" of is Vegas. By all rights, Vegas should smell disgusting. So many people, drinking like fish, wandering the streets. It should not be good. But the air is so warm and humid, and the palm trees just seem to permeate. (Florida has the same wonderful smell.) Perhaps it's because I associate it with vacations and good times with Dennis. But I miss it every now and again, and when we arrive in Vegas and I get my first lungful, it smells just wonderful. Not like home, but like a little bit of adventure.
Lilacs. I love the smell of lilacs. This is one of my favourite times of the year because they are everywhere. I'll be out for a run and pass a backyard and for a few steps I am engulfed. It's such a shame their blooming season is so, so short. Then again, that is one of the things that makes them so special. Growing up we always had lilac bushes in the backyard so I associate them with some of my best childhood memories. When I smell lilacs it takes me back to carefree, sunshine-filled summers playing in the yard. Pacifica makes a lovely French Lilac perfume that is pretty darn close to the real thing. I sometimes wear it when I need a lilac fix to brighten my day.
Wicket. I should be very clear here that Wicket does not smell better than most dogs. When he's just had a bath he has a mild doggy smell, which gradually becomes more belligerent as time passes. But even though intellectually I know it's not a "good" smell, I love it. It is associated with every good and wonderful thing for me. There is nothing I love more than picking him up, bringing him close and breathing in those wonderful doggy snuggles. Would I wear a perfume that smelled like Wicket? No, of course not. That would be disgusting and I'm pretty sure human resources at work would have to talk to me about showering more often. The best part of the Wicket smell is that I can only experience it when I'm with Wicket. That's what makes it so wonderful.
Roast chicken/turkey. There is no other food smell that reminds me of home the way roast turkey or chicken does. Roast turkey reminds me of mom because I almost only ever have it when I'm with her - either she's making family dinner or I am. Roast chicken reminds me of Sunday dinners at Grandma Bahr's. Her chicken was amazing and her gravy -oy. It was so good it was mentioned in her eulogy if that's any indication. The smell of roasting bird makes me feel like I'm home and loved.
And now a couple smells I find less pleasant on an emotional level.
Hospitals. I know this is probably a universal one. I'm pretty sure no one has ever walked into a hospital and exclaimed, "Wow, this place just smells incredible". But before my surgery I was pretty neutral on it. I knew it didn't smell great but at the same time - it didn't permeate my consciousness much. It was like background noise. Now it's a reminder of my experience with cancer and all the associated fear, anxiety and pain. My work takes me into hospitals on a somewhat regular basis. I don't have a meltdown - but I do a cringe a wee bit inside. Maybe in time it will fade and have less meaning to me.
Cinnamon rolls. Anyone who has ever worked in a bakery can probably get behind me on this one. What is a delightful, magical aroma to most people is completely off-putting to a baker. Although this may be hard to believe, cinnamon rolls lose their charm by the time you've pulled your 500th tray out of the oven. (Not to mention those hot syrup burns hurt like a son of a bitch.) Add to that the fact that my time working in bakeries was during a difficult time for me personally and you can see why I gag ever so gently when that odor wafts over me in Safeway. That being said, cinnamon rolls are damn delicious. Thankfully (?) I can still enjoy eating them. On an individual basis they are still delightful. It's just when you have 6 dozen pans of them overpowering your nostrils that it's a problem for me.
The only other smell I have a strong "scent memory" of is Vegas. By all rights, Vegas should smell disgusting. So many people, drinking like fish, wandering the streets. It should not be good. But the air is so warm and humid, and the palm trees just seem to permeate. (Florida has the same wonderful smell.) Perhaps it's because I associate it with vacations and good times with Dennis. But I miss it every now and again, and when we arrive in Vegas and I get my first lungful, it smells just wonderful. Not like home, but like a little bit of adventure.