Memories are unusual things. Just when the belief sets in that age has messed with one's remembrances, (I can recall almost every Oscar winning Best Picture since 1927, but ask me my son's new phone number and I become a blithering, drooling idiot with the IQ of a turnip!) something as remote as a garlicky taste, the mere mention of a name, or a pungent odor can trigger a flood of once buried thoughts. I find that of all of the five senses, the one that takes me to places that I haven't thought of in years, is the sense of smell. Odour is incredibly powerful. Just ask anybody who has ridden public transit at the end of a long, hot summer's day or walked into a teenage boy's bedroom in the morning. The crisp freshness of the air in the spring, or the decaying wet leaves that usher in autumn, signal the impending change in the weather. The rancid smell of potatoes frying always reminds me of family Channukah parties complete with ridiculous $20.00 gift exchanges. (A note to family members who may be reading this: the husband ALWAYS re-gifts from previous years, so beware the thermal BBQ fork, disposal cameras complete with feminine covered albums or car accessories that dangle from the rearview mirror!) Likewise, the disgustingly pungent odor of gefilte fish, that sends the husband running and screaming from the house like a man being chased by ghoulish apparitions, brings to the fore thoughts of Pesach and seders from years gone by. Smells can also trigger the not so happy. Hospitals, with their strange combinations of bodily fluids and antiseptic, have a way of making us all cringe. I still get the shivers from the smell of certain flowers that remind me of some very unhappy work experiences. When I was a child, my grandmother lived with us. She was the only person that I ever knew who had no sense of smell, having lost it to a bout of scarlet fever. I would repeatedly forget about her handicap as I would always implore her to smell this thing or that. Unlike other physical issues, her loss was not readily visible. There was no hearing aid-like device or cane that would easily help her overcome her disability. She simply learned to live with it. I always thought that if she had to lose a physical ability, then that one would be the easiest to overcome, but now I am not so certain. All of our senses are important. They work in conjunction with one another to help us maneuver through our morass of memories. Our sense of smell is a wondrous gift that we should never take for granted or hold our noses at! I didn't even remember about Bubby's inability to smell until I started thinking about odours and their power! So today, as I am living through the head-reeling stench of paint and drywall compound, I know that this too, will create lasting memories. Good or bad, they are all mine!
Much progress was made on Saturday as the new opening between the family room and kitchen was given some finishing. The ceiling with all of the lights is now completed (although there is one pot light that doesn't seem to work-it is never easy). The primer coat was completed as were the thresholds between all of the rooms. The painter is here. He is a nice enough fellow who only understands the words "Good Morning" and "lunch"! Apparently the walls are going to be painted today! We shall see. As well, we are expecting cabinetry and appliances sometime this week. Outside Hunky is still MIA even though Overall said that he would show today. I think I want to work his hours, about 3 a month! There are some new pictures in the album. Have a look and enjoy. We will post more later.