Where did Sunday go please? I had every intention of sending my newsletter out on Sunday but I started stripping the wallpaper off the Boys bedroom walls and got so carried away with wanting to get it done that I just I carried on. And now it’s Tuesday - the walls are stripped though.
So much is still going on! Lockdown light is coming, the American election is happening, there has been an awful earthquake in Turkey and all this has made me think about the things we trust with our gut even if when we don’t know why. The easiest way to explain what I mean is to share a story.
I love the Greek island of Rhodes, I don’t know why but I do and as a family we have spent many happy summer holidays there. A few years ago I was in the Kori boutique in Lindos and the shop keeper was burning lemon balm oil, filling the little store with it’s warm lemony mint zest. As well as falling in love with the smell it evoked a memory of comfort. As much as I tried I couldn’t recap what that memory was or why the smell meant so much to me. The oil which is native to southern Europe and the Mediterranean, was for sale so I brought loads and I burn regularly and absolutely adore the familiarity it brings.
Obviously we didn’t get to go the Rhodes this year, but last year we did and while there took a trip to Symi. In another cute little store I saw some beautiful antique bracelets, when I held one it started buzzing in my palm and no, it wasn’t scary. But this moment did make really want to go deep into my subconscious and remember why the smell of lemon balm was so important to me. I slept on that question for weeks when we got home. “What was it about lemon balm that stirred my soul?” And one night I found out. When I was little I used to spend time a lot of time with a friend of my mum’s. She was lovely and had a colorful cottage garden busting with all kinds of flowers and smells. In that garden, in the flower bed just to the left of the blue swing with a yellow seat was a huge clump of bright green lemon balm. That night, in my dream my mum’s friend, who passed several years ago, took me on a walk around the garden and stopped to show me the lemon balm plant I could remember so strongly. I woke up sobbing and happy.
I knew lemon balm was a happy and comforting smell, whenever I smelt it I knew deep in my belly that it was a good smell from a place of joy and happiness. I wished I could have remembered much sooner why the smell was so treasured to me.
Now I know what the smell is it’s made me really focus on the scents that are always there but we don’t always take notice of. I’m also focused on recalling other smells from my childhood too. The smell of cinnamon in a rice pudding baking in the oven is a lovely smell, so much better than freshly baked bread IMO. I love the smell of sugar nearly burning when making toffee apples and the smell of sulfur that hangs in the air the day after fireworks night. I love the smell of a hint of bleach in a freshly cleaned bathroom as much I love the smell of a fish and chip shop by the sea - these always smell different than fish and chip shops in a town or a city - why is that? And I love the smell of my Granny’s Jamaican version of an classic English Fry Up - plantain and baked beans with fried onions and a little seasoning. I’ll probably never have my Granny make that again and I can make it just as good now, but it’s a smell that just by recalling it makes me happy.
Life is smelly, but smells are amazing, the smell of damp wallpaper scrapped from a wall scrunched into a green waste sack not so much, but oh how we take the good smells that are in the background of our lives for granted.
Image: Dr Weil’s