Memories

I was walking down the road last night. Beautiful, clear, quiet night, not unlike most the nights in this small town. The stars were out in the thousands and there was a slight breeze blowing that sent goose bumps up my arm. I am not sure if it was the coolness that the air brought or the fragrance that hung on it the caused the hairs on my arms to rise. It was a smell that brought back childhood memories. A smell that I would know anywhere. The smell of freshly plowed dirt, sap from the pine trees that lined the road, the smell of things growing, of oil and gas mixed in a way that can only be associated with a large piece of machinery. It was the unmistakable smell of a farm. A smell that I would always associate with my great-grandparents farm.

What is the one taste or smell that you will never forget? I have a whole list, as I am sure anyone would. The smell of Christmas dinner cooking, the smell of a pine tree, the taste of a good spice cake. Each one of these holds a special meaning to me. How is it that a certain fragrance on the wind or the taste of something familiar can transport us to another time, another place? It is an amazing thing the human mind; how it works in so many mysterious ways.

Blog?

So I’ve written stories. I’ve wrote in journals. But blogging? Why? So random people can hear my even more random thoughts. Why not? I mean what can it hurt, but what do I write about. Do I write poems and stories, like I usually do? I guess I could. Do I tell you about my not so normal life? Thats a better possibility. I mean, how many times in your life do you get to hear someone bitch and moan about what’s going on in their lives. Oh, you do that often… well… hmmm…. I could just sit here.

Sit.

Sit.

Sit.

Shit.

Ship.

Hip.

Hop.

Rabbit.

Carrot.

Orange.

God I want some orange juice.

Now I’m thirsty.

Hey… a CreamSicle. In a drink.

Hmmm… pretty good.

Mom was right. I think this thing is going to kick my ass.

My heads a little spinny. What was I talking about again? Oh… yeah. Blogging. Sorry, my soon to be mother-in-law just sat this drink down in front of me and Robin and told us to drink. She said we both looked like we needed a drink and swore it tasted just like those old orange creamsicles. She was right. And I got the orange juice that I wanted. I guess I didn’t sit too well. I never could.

Anyway, now that I am done rambling… welcome to my blog. I am not sure from one day to the next what exactly I will post but keep your eyes open, you can never be sure what I am going to post next.

Until next time,

Amanda