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Mrs SR was cutting my hair earlier today with barber scissors, when I was suddenly reminded of the wonderful sound of my kindergarten [sic] teacher cutting shapes out of construction paper.
You know: Schscht, schscht, schscht... 🙂
What sounds/smells/tastes/textures do you fondly recall?
For your listening pleasure:
Lynx Africa smells of 1995 PE changing rooms.
Mr Bojangles. Reminds me of my dad.
Painting your hand with PVA glue and then peeling it off in big clear sheets once it had dried.
Creosote reminds me of family happiness, and general summer days outdoors doing stuff .
Pickled cabbage. Reminds me of childhood 😀
4 star petrol. We didn't have a car when I was younger so it reminds me of my grandads old Vauxhall Viva. Well, it used to when you could still get it.
The smell of beach balls.
yeah, I love my new girlfriend all the more just for thatThe smell of beach balls.
Oh, and the sound of people colouring in really carefully with felt pens
The smell of horse piss on straw. And saddle soap. All the smells of the horse stable. Mrs stoner Sr was big cheese in local riding for the disabled association so I grew up in a horsey miasma.
two stroke oil mixture
New cricket equipment used to have a distinctive smell. Particularly the leather of a new pair of batting gloves, it might have been some sort of powder so that the palms didn't stick together.
Cigar smoke. Usually my grandpa smoked a pipe but when my dad came back from abroad with the RAF he'd get him some cigars, so cigar smoke reminds me of my grandpa and my dad coming home.
two stroke oil mixture
Oh yes! I forgot this one, but fondly remember it from days at the cabin on West Hawk Lake, and my uncle's Mercury motorboat engine.
Freshly cut grass.
I'm in my mid fifties now, & everytime I smell freshly cut grass I'm taken back in time to being a 10yr old at junior school on a spring day. The sun was out, & the teacher took us all outside to do a lesson whilst sat on the grass that had just been cut that morning.
Err, not sat ON the grass cuttings, but on the lawn that was just outside the classroom...
Righty, this video was taken in 2012..by some bloke or other, but..
If you take yourself back to 1978 and just think about the little 8yr old kid I was back then, sailing in the same waters.. listening to the same breeze, hearing the same waves tap the bow and smelling red maple and slash pines... and feeling the spray on my face..
Thats my childhood sailing right there..
Humbrol paint. Glow plug fuel.
The taste of soil and the gritty sensation between your teeth- apparently I had a bit of notion for sucking pebbles in the garden when I was a toddler.
Sounds: Led Zeppelin 3 always takes me back to my bedroom in the basement of my parents' house when I was 13.
Smell: creosote. The fence in my parents's garden in the '70s.
Touch: kissing my dead mother on the forehead shortly after she passed away.
The smell of damp woodland takes me back to my BMX days when I was a kid.
The smell of my uncle's study. He was a village Rector, deep in the Cotswolds. The rectory was an enormous house, with log fires in most of the rooms, and so the whole place had a woodsmoke scent to it, but Uncle Roy used to smoke a pipe and that added an exquisite layer to the woodsmoke, beeswax furniture polish and old book smell in his study.
The smell of scalextric controllers warming up.
The smell of the TT is amazing, oil,tyre rubber and petrol. A sidecar outfit used to use my gran's garage as a base.
New football boots
Creosote also for me, reminds me of being taken to the park by my grandad when I was tiny.
The smell of my uncle's study. He was a village Rector, deep in the Cotswolds. The rectory was an enormous house, with log fires in most of the rooms, and so the whole place had a woodsmoke scent to it, but Uncle Roy used to smoke a pipe and that added an exquisite layer to the woodsmoke, beeswax furniture polish and old book smell in his study.
You are the new Jack Hargreaves
As I've since found out from my sis' - we both had the same 'sensory' dreams when very young. Probably when a little bit feverish or ill.
These giant synasthesic textural black shapes that would hover against a giant black background and get bigger or smaller, closer or further away, more threatening or more comforting, throughout the dream, which felt like it went on for hours. Proper weird, but I guess you had to be there!
Not sure I ever get an experience that evokes that now, nor would I want to!
Maripan. It's banned from our house and probably the only thing in the whole world that i actually hate. Reason for this is it reminds me of an incident from my childhood. It was my first year at primary school and teacher was preparing a big tub of Gloy glue for making paper mache. I ate the whole tub thinking it was the 'pan. I was ill, and feel ill if i even get a wiff of the stuff.
My wife & I called into the MIL's a while back, something we do regularly, but this time she was baking home-made sausage rolls, I promptly burst into tears!
Obviously everyone wondered what the hell was going on, until I explained that I had just been transported back about 40 years to my Grandad's house, whom i still miss greatly.
Every time we visited him he'd be baking, usually sausage rolls & rock cakes & that smell, my god, it was the weirdest thing.
I've been into people's houses thousands of times since while there's been cooking smells wafting, but something about this one occasion, everything was exactly the same.
Farm smells conjure up my youth working on a friends farm on Exmoor.
Sheep shit, Cow shit, Horse shit, Diesel etc...
Fabulous times and I love reliving the emotion and sensations 😀