A while back the family and I were on our way back from Sunday lunch, taking the long way back, and talking about our favorite smells. It wasn’t as boring or short a conversation that you are probably thinking. Some of the mutual faves: pipe tobacco, rain, old books, decaying leaves, freshly tilled earth, clean line-dried laundry, and coffee. It was a mixed bag on whether we actually enjoyed the smells, or enjoyed the memories that the smells triggered.
I think I was the only one who enjoys the aroma of diesel exhaust. Every time I get a whiff of it, I’m a kid riding the tractor with my Dad cutting hay.
One smell that didn’t come up in conversation was another of my favorites—the smell of the Folgers coffee plant in downtown Kansas City. Denotatively, I love the aroma, though I think it smells like waffles. Connotatively, it reminds me of riding with Dad in downtown KC late at night after one of his union meetings (bleh).
Still, every time the wind is right I think of Dad and want a big plate of waffles and a cup of coffee.
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