Sweet Smell of Home (and other nice places)

The scent I was thinking of when I suggested this to Meg is actually part of a complete-senses package.

My grandparents owned 10 acres of property backing onto Cow Creek out East of Redding. Grandpa always had a dozen or so head of cattle grazing on it. When we'd go up to visit, we'd always play cowgirls and go out and help Grandpa move them from the upper field to the lower, or vice-versa, walk with him when he turned on the sprinklers, go out and check the line of pines and firs along the road.

But the strongest scent-memory was part of falling asleep. In the summer, the bedroom window would be open. We could hear the wind in the trees, the creek tumbling over the rock dam we'd build for Grandma, the sound of the logging trucks down-shifting up on the highway. Mom and Grandma in the living room talking about relatives, Grandpa's clock ticking over the fireplace. And the sound of the sprinklers - whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. And the ones close to the house that didn't go all the way around, they went part way and then back again - whoosh, whoosh, click-click-click-click-click. The weather is hot, so we're barely draped in sheets. It's either the hard little love-seat the folds flat (and throws your pillow on the floor because there's nothing to stop it from sliding) or sharing the hide-a-bed (with the bar right under your hip and your sister stealing the covers and kicking you.) And filling all of it - the scent of wet alfalfa, still warm from a day in the summer sun and smelling so sweet and green.

My sister has Grandpa's denim jacket in her hall closet. It was supposed to be for Mike to wear - but we can still smell hay and dust and cows on it, and Kelly won't let Mike wear it while we can still smell Grandpa on it.

Grandma and Grandpa Skold's house smelled of photographic chemicals. Especially the back porch, which always felt chilly no matter the temperature. And Grandpa's den which smelled of dust and leather and whatever taxidermists use.

I've worked at the Renaissance Faire for years and years. Faire smells of dust, and dry grass, and fire retardant, and fresh paint, with a little lavender or rosemary mixed in (I wear them on my bodice or on my hat.) Even after faire clothes have been washed, they still have the faire scent in them.

My sister's family and I work the Dickens Christmas Fair each year. It's held in the Cow Palace Exhibition Halls, and before this last year the Grand National Rodeo was the last event in the hall before we moved in. We joke about how the scent of cow manure makes us want to sing Christmas carols!