Friday, May 06, 2005


Neoprene - Back to the days of teaching diving in the Caribbean. Life was so simple.

Old books - College library. It was almost like learning through olfactory glands.

Curry Powder - My mom's first attempt at making chicken curry. It was so hot, everyone at the table tried to slyly slip theirs to the dog. Within seconds the slow, fat mutt was a black dart floating on the top of the floor toward her water bowl. I miss family dinners.

Lilacs - Long June days in Montana where you could find a shaded tree to escape the 95 degree sun to find 75 degree grass. With a book, there was no better place to disappear.

Freshly cut grass - Days spent on the golf course with family or friends laughing about how bad we suck. Okay, maybe I just suck, but I still play a lot.

Burning wood - Entering a fire scene with adrenaline pumping and excitement overiding any fears.

Wet dog - My childhood lab, Magus. Always happy to see you. When she passed on, the cat who seemingly despised her wouldn't leave her usual napping spot for over a week. It was then that I realized animals suffer depression too.

Red wine - Sunday afternoons as my parents cook an extravagant dinner together. Because that was their time. Together. I envy their relationship.

What smells take you back?

Did I mention I had two margaritas at lunch? Cinco de Mayo? No, but don't forget the Alamo!