No, not the song by Lynyrd Skynyrd, but a smell that triggered a few fond memories, but first. . .
In just a few weeks, I’ll begin my 12th year of blogging and while I am no longer committed to posting daily, I have no intention of pulling the plug on this hobby anytime soon. It is just part of me now.
It has been two weeks since I have been home as I was in a bit of a modified, “COVID time out,” due to being in close proximity to someone, who while they ultimately didn’t test positive, everyone else in their house did and was sick. All is good and it’s great to see my wife, dogs and daughter’s family, who are hanging out with us until their new house closes in early January. It is extra great having our granddaughter (15 months old) with us and knowing she will wake up here on Christmas morning.
Back to the main story. Earlier today and on a whim, I decided to slap on a little of my father’s Old Spice after shaving. Dad died in September of 2019 and I mentioned the Old Spice once before. Smell is such a powerful anchor and numerous memories flooded back. Years and years of dad always wearing his Old Spice made this an easy way to take a stroll down memory lane.
One of the things I am thankful for this year are the many experiences I am able to store away, yet able to find when desired. What I wouldn’t give to go back to a Saturday morning in the late-1970’s when I would go with my dad to Flanagan’s General Store, have breakfast with him and his friends and then go shooting at a police, pistol match somewhere in the county.
No one needs to be reminded about what a crazy year 2020 has been and continues to be. Based on information that I am seeing, and assuming it is true, the next 30 days or so will be very interesting
It has been a Thanksgiving tradition for me to post Arlo’s Alice’s Restaurant Massacre and this year will be no different, but today I want to share a song that while not about Thanksgiving, surely tells a story worth thinking about this week and any week for that matter.
Hang in there, everybody.