This is going to be an interesting one for me to write because normally I do sight and touch, plus a bit of sound, but I don't generally work with smells much, even though it is also a major part of my life.
To do this one, I'd have to say that my memories of my childhood consist of hearing football games from the high school next door. I can remember hearing people playing tennis, which drew me to the courts next door when I was about two or three years old, where I held a "conversation" with a couple that was playing tennis. I can also remember the angry sound of my dad's voice telling me to go inside to my mother when I returned home, shortly thereafter. I also remember my grandmother's voice, when she would play games with me and the sound of her cooking in the kitchen. The smell of her meatballs would cause me to salivate even now with only the memory left. She also made some of the best gravy and her mashed potatoes were so wonderfully scrumptious. Even though my grandmother smoked, I never thought her house smelled like it (even though I'm sure it probably did). Sounds of the CB radio my grandmother talked on also come to mind. I can also remember the smell of the multitude of flowers she kept in her yard. Roses, forget-me-nots, tiger lilies, chrysanthemums and other various flowers. Also, the smell of her lotion. She kept in what she called her "genie" bottle. It looked like the bottle from "I Dream of Jeannie". I also remember the frightened sound of my grandmother's voice the last time I spoke with her before she died. She was terrified she'd be put under anesthesia again and this time, she wouldn't wake up. If only I'd known how close to the truth that fear would end up being and how quickly she'd be gone from me.
I remember the sound of my own crying one time when my sister and I were being a bit reckless on the front porch swing at my great grandmother's house and we fell and hurt ourselves. I remember the sound of my great grandfather "searching" for me, as I hid behind his chair and the sound of his laughter when we would sneak our hands under his pants legs and tickle his ankles. I remember him calling Bloody Bones and our squeals as we'd run and hide under the kitchen table. I remember my great grandfather telling us about the boy that got his finger bitten off so that we wouldn't go near the snapping turtle he'd caught down in the swamp and brought home. I can also remember him fussing at me when I kept dropping the foot of the rabbit we were helping him to skin. I remember how he smelled of snuff, the outdoors and all things woodsy. I can remember the disdain in my great grandmother's voice one time when we were playing scrabble and I spelled "turd" but she couldn't do anything because it qualified as a word. *giggles* I also remember the sound of her voice as she would be explaining how it was that something yummy (like her biscuits, or a pie, or canned apples, or...) was made. Anytime I walked into her house, it would smell like food. Biscuits or roast beef, cakes and coffee. To me, my great grandmother smelled like home. I also remember the smell of the corn shed and the fields in the spring, as the ground became warm enough to turn. I remember the smell of the chickens, the mule in the field, and of the barn, used to store the tractor and other equipment. The smell of fresh picked beans and ripe watermelon, ready to be eaten. The smell of nature permeates my memories.
I also remember the sounds of yelling and thumps as my dad and stepmother fought in the next room. I remember the sound of my stepmother yelling at me. And I remember my grandmother's voice, so worried about me at the hands of my stepmother, trying to help me me as best she could, without getting me into trouble. I remember the sounds of the children at school as they would taunt me and call me names. I remember how wonderful pencils smelled. I would empty the pencil sharpeners just so I could catch a whiff of it. I remember the dirty smell of my mother's car, permeated with whatever was thrown into the floor that I had to step on to sit in the seats. I remember the smell of the trailer that I slept on the floor under a table in one Halloween night, where we were at for a party. I remember the sound of my second stepmother's voice as she accused me of having an affair with my father. And I remember the whining and incessant back talking of my second stepmother's children. I remember the smell of piss soaked sheets when I would wake up and have to deal with my bed wetting problem. I find it very interesting that the problem disappeared right along the same time my second stepmother left the scene. I remember the smell of making biscuits and cooking dinner for the family so it would be ready when my dad got home from work. And I remember waking up in my sister's room one time when I had sleep walked into it. My first thought upon waking was, "this doesn't smell like my room?"
I think this one has become quite lengthy at this point and so I should probably end it here, before it becomes TLDR.
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