Memories

I love baking. I have always loved mixing things and making new things from different ingredients. I used to do this with household cleaners, perfumes, lotions, and other solutions when I was a little kid. In fact, one time, at my friend’s house I really did make this amazing formula from a combination of whatever I could find; when we sprayed it on the bathroom wall, it would identify where mold/mildew was–mold and mildew that had been hitherto invisible to the naked eye! Anyway, before I could rush out and patent it (I was 11, btw) my friend’s older brother got a little too enthusiastic about our creation. So, he wanted to double the formula, but we didn’t know the exact proportions…anyway, suffice it to say…it lost its mold-detecting abilities, and we lost interest and decided to go roller skating instead.

And now it’s time for me to give mention about my deep love for roller skating. Now, I’m talking about the real-deal, four-actual-wheels, roller-skates, here. NOT roller blades. I really have some really great memories of roller skating as a kid. It was a big part of my childhood. I had awesome skates, too. They looked like LA Gear high-tops, except that they had wheels. From what I remember, I pretty much owned the black top, too, in those things. I remember doing jumps and spins, and sailing down the one slight incline in my neighborhood. And don’t even get me started on the monthly Homeschool Skating Social. It was probably even more awesome than it sounds.

I have told Collin how much I would still love to roller skate, and he tries to be supportive. I think he feels about it (“it” being my desire to get back into roller-skating) like I felt when he got his hair cut like Friar Tuck a few weeks ago. He wants me to be happy, if it makes me happy…but maybe he also feels like it might be a little bit not as awesome as I had hoped it would be going into the situation.

When he asked me how I liked his hair cut, I (really without trying to be humorous or rude) said, “I like it– especially when you wear your hat.” At which point we both started laughing and admitted it wasn’t what he had hoped it would be. He is pretty convinced that the roads around here would not make for an ideal, adult roller-skating experience (“adult” serving to describe my present stage of life, not to be confused with the grimy sense of the word, as in “adult” book store–though I don’t think the roads would be ideal for that kind of roller skating, either.)

BUT, getting back to what I was saying originally. I baked some bread today, and it was really nice. It was a recipe called “Italian Country Loaves.” It has rosemary and garlic in it; it’s got a very distinct aroma and flavor. I made this bread a lot when Collin and I were first married, so it reminds me of that time in our life. It’s amazing how memories can be so strongly tied to smells. When I smell that bread rising and baking in our home, I am flooded with feelings from that time in life. It’s like a part of my subconscious is still there  experiencing those daily moments in our old apartment; I can feel the sunlight on my skin as it shines through the windows. I can hear the music that typified that time in our life. I can remember these pants that I used to wear a lot because they were khaki and part of my required uniform when I worked at Brew Ha Ha. I remember how it felt to be me at that point in life. It’s like the smell triggers non-verbal memories that I otherwise wouldn’t have retained in great detail, but all these little, poignant sensory details got filed under “Italian Country Loaves Smell.” And I love that about life.

Does anyone else have these smell-induced memories? If so, let’s hear about them. And/or, what were some of your favorite childhood activities?

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