In the biology classes I've taken, I've been told that the olfactory (the part of the brain in charge of your sense of smell) is only sense you have that erects emotion and memories. When you smell cut grass it reminds you of Saturday afternoons when your neighbor mows their lawn, coffee can make you think of Starbuck. We all have memories that are triggered by smell.
A couple of days ago they had cut the grass/weeds along the road on the way to our house. It's now drying out. And the smell is of hay that's been cut and laid to dry before being bailed. On my way home from the store tonight in the Jeep - I pulled over on the side of the road because the smell overwhelmed me so much. It took over my body and for a couple minutes transported me back to a simpler time in my life.
I grew up in Folsom. From the time I was 3 or 4 I've called the town my home. However the home in my heart was always my Grandparents'. They lived in Anderson (just outside Redding), on a small farm in the country, on a road that wasn't paved and down the road from them lived my Great Grandparents. My youngest memories are of there - family Christmases, Easter egg hunts, popcorn made on the stove. Even my first dog was from there.
My grandparents had a dog named Lady, she was a Shepard mix. And while she lived with them, in her heart and in mine, she was my dog. Because my great grandparents lived so close to my grandparents (they were maybe 100 yards away). From the time I could toddle well enough to make it the distance, I would walk down to see them. However Lady Dog had self appointed herself my body guard. If an adult hadn't told her I was allowed to go - she wouldn't let me. Off I'd set down the driveway, she'd nose me back to the house. I'd throw a fit, show my stubborn streak and put my hand on my hips and tell her I was headed to Grandma-ma's. Attempting to be off again, I would only be nosed back to the house. Finally when an adult would tell her it was okay - she'd walk by my side all the way there. I loved her so much. When I was 6 - she got into some snail poison and had to be put down. I recall my grandpa calling to tell me. He was crying as much as me.
At my great grandparents house my great grandfather built me a sand box in their yard that I would play in for hours. In the summer I always wanted to be out there, never caring it was 105+ degrees and not an inch of shade in sight. He was always afraid I would get overheated and have heat stroke but rather than say "No I couldn't go play" he'd sit on the front porch and watch - whittling his piece of wood and spitting his chew into my Grandma flower beds. Even though I was only 3 when he died, I still remember him - his smile, the twinkle in his eyes and most of all the way he smelled. Whenever I smell fresh tobacco (the Tinderbox in the mall especially) I think of him.
No one was immune to farm in Anderson, regardless of age. My grandfather had a nice size garden that had everything from potatoes to asparagus in it. During planting time, we'd go help plant the garden. My contribution being especially important. It consisted of making sure everyone was well fed.Trucks would drop off mountainous piles of planting soil to which I would climb like a mountain climber to Everest. With me on my voyage, I would take only old kitchen utensils, water and old tin pot pie dishes (back then the oven pot pies came in little tins, grandma would save them for me - especially for this occasion). Pie after pie I'd make delivering to everyone from Grandpa to my cousins. I was famous for my mud pies! Everyone got one before anyone got seconds - I was always fair if nothing else.
When harvest times came I again had very important jobs. The first was to help my grandma pick the strawberries from the patch (I think her and I got this because at the time - we were the two closest to the ground in height). I'd put on my little blue jeans with Sylvester from Loony Tunes on the back pocket and out we'd go. We'd get a gallon or two every time and that meant dessert that night would be strawberry shortcake. Sometimes on good days - we can sit with Grandma and talk about picking those strawberries and she'll seem to remember. She just doesn't realize the little girl helping her is the young woman now sitting across from her.
My other jobs were more covert and undercover. Grandma put me in charge of Grandpa when it came to picking the green beans and tomatoes, only Grandpa wasn't to know I was in charge. We'd make him think he was helping me, but I was really bossing him. Grandpa's color blind so, had we let him pick alone we'd have eaten green tomatoes instead of red ones and bean stocks instead of pods.
My last assignment usually consisted of helping in the barn. I loved the barn for several reasons. First of all - I loved the smell of the hay as much as I loved climbing on the bales, secondly I loved the animals. The cows were friendly and would let me pet them, the goat would eat oats out of my hands while tickling me with his whiskers and the feral cat that had her kittens in one of the feeding troughs - let me have one of her litter for my first kitten, Tiger.
All of these things rushed to me on the side of the road while I sat in the Jeep, just from the smell of the cut and drying grass. I love my grandparents and great grandparents. My grandfather always had hugs and kisses for me as well as bedside stories I will remember all my days. And, while my grandmother wasn't the Betty Crocker of grandma's, she taught me an appreciation for Harlequin romance novels and ice cream cones at 11pm. I'll never crawl under a homemade quilt or make top ramen without thinking of my great grandma-ma and the saying "frog in your throat" will forever make me think of my great grandpa. I was a lucky little girl to have them and had I known then what I know now I would have savored it more. Perhaps I would have slowed down from the splashing and playing in the irrigation water, stopped from climbing the cherry trees to chase after my cousins and I would have taken more memory snap shots so that I constantly have them with me today, instead just of the side of the road in my Jeep.
Since it was so nice out we took the Jeep. My big head is totally blocking Gina!
AW! How cute! Gina and Jenna in the back seat! Nice glasses Jenna! :o)
Yes this is totally safe for me to put a camera in the drivers direct line of vision while driving (after wine tasting all afternoon) @ 60MPH!
I think Gina & Jenna's road soda's had kicked in! Nice hat & hair! See the glasses Jenna has on. We've all three got a pact to share them. They're like the Sisterhood of the traveling Sunglasses - only we're adults & there won't be teen angst involved! Gina has them for May, Jenna gets them in June and I get them in July. The Gina gets them again! 
