Today is a pretty day and a warm day, in the mid 40’s. I have a few errands later, and I’m glad to be going out. I used to find errands annoying. Now, they are the only break in the monotony.

My den smells like the stores I used to visit back in time which sold woolen jackets with embroidered designs, handwoven socks and those square decorative cloth bags we all carried. Some bags had fringe. Mine didn’t. Everything in the store came from Nepal, which was big in the late 60’s. I used to buy prayer flags to decorate my apartment. The store in Hyannis always smelled of incense. I’m burning incense right now. It smells like the store to me, but I don’t know what the scent is. All the long thin incense sticks smell the same to me. I’m thinking sandalwood. I think they are all sandalwood.

My sister once gave me small blocks of peat to burn and a ceramic Irish cottage peat burner. Peat has a particular smell. It is one of those smells you love or not at all. I love the smell of peat. I particularly remember it from one trip to Ireland. We were staying at a summer hotel before the season. Most of the rooms were cold including the tiny dining room where we were having dinner so they started the fireplace. They used peat. The room warmed quickly and was filled with the aroma of the peat. It stayed on my clothes. I could still smell the peat when I went to sleep.

When I was in high school, my friends and I used to go tobogganing at the Winchester Country Club. It had the most amazing hills. I remember a hill we took only once. We were speeding down that hill when it just disappeared leaving us in mid-air. We flew for a bit. My friend Bobby was in front. I was in the middle and poor Jimmy was in the back. The landing was hard. We slammed against the snow but continued down the hill. Jimmy had almost fallen off when we landed. We sort of dragged him for a bit. We didn’t know. That hill was a monster.