”A thousand words will not leave so deep an impression as one smell.”
Posted September 17, 2024 by katryCategories: Musings
Today will be mostly cloudy, but it is sunny right now. It will be warm again. The great weather continues.
Yesterday the great mystery of the sock was solved. Last week I found a single sock on my deck from a favorite pair of socks. I know socks don’t walk though my mother used to warn us that our socks were so dirty they could walk themselves to the washer. The sock I found was wet so I put it on the rail to dry. I went upstairs through my basket of socks but couldn’t find the mate of the deck sock. In a while, the sock disappeared from the rail, but I saw it in the yard. Nala was the sock thief. That much I knew. I left the mateless sock in the yard. Yesterday I picked up my laundry. In the bag, at the top of the clean laundry pile was the sock, the missing mate. Now the other sock was missing, still in the yard I figured. I went hunting and found it. The socks have been reunited.
When I was a kid, my world was small. The most exciting places were the stores uptown and, my favorite place, just down from the square, the library. Those were the days of speaking in whispers and librarians shushing us. The librarian was old. She wore the same type dresses my grandmother did. She really did have a bun. She also spoke in whispers. At the desk, I’d hand her my books. She’d take out the card from the back of the book, stamp it with the due date and then put it back into the book. She always carefully stamped the card within the lines.
Uptown had smells and aromas. The best was the aroma which filled the square when the bread was baking at Hank’s Bakery. I remember Hanks so well. Inside were glass cases filled with brownies, cakes and cupcakes. On the wall behind the counter were the breads and rolls. I remember the white boxes and the giant roll of twine. The lady behind the counter filled the box and quickly wound it with twine. Her fingers moved so fast the box was wound with string in a heartbeat.
A distinct smell came from the fish market at the end of the square. I remember the lobsters swimming. I also remember the fish on ice. Some still had heads. I remember the fly strips hanging from the ceiling. They were sticky so they were covered with dead flies who had made bad decisions.
I am disappointed by today’s grey sky. Tonight is the harvest moon. It will be full after ten, and then there will be a partial eclipse. I’ll see clouds.
Autumn Serenade: John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman
Posted September 16, 2024 by katryCategories: Video



