June loses the moon

There’s something very smug-inducing about leaving your workout and the moon is still out. Like, you’re done and the sun hasn’t come up yet. Very Army.

I did Pure Barre at 6 a.m. today, obvs. And I say obvs because look at this ass. How can you miss it. …Okay, maybe the results of Pure Barre haven’t quite set in yet.

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Not a portrait of my actual ass

Yesterday was a good mail day. Faithful Reader Fay sent me Fiona the Hippo. I see that when they blew stuff around my camellias that it soiled the window, and now my ridiculous handyman Alf has a new thing to do. Today he is coming to fix the rod in my closet, which sounds like a euphemism but I swear it is not. I’d have to kill Alf before I let him “fix” the rod in my “closet.” Actually when you break it down that way it doesn’t even make sense as a euphemism.

Alf is someone I am sincerely fond of, who does everything he can to annoy me. Right there is the conundrum. Really, I am telling you this here so when I finally kill him, I’ll have evidence that I was driven to it. That’s how getting out of murder works, right?

I never watch those murder shows. Maybe I need to bone up. Which is also something Alf isn’t going to do around here.

IMG_3508.jpgAnyway, also, my father sent me a paper towel holder. He is a very kitchen-y person, and I guess knowing my paper towels were rolling around unchaperoned on my counter is very Third World to him. So now I have the World’s Fanciest Paper Towel Holder®. With a five-year warranty!

After the excitement of the mail day wore off, my Aunt Kathy sent me an email. “I don’t know how to send a link,” she wrote, “but if you Google [insert thing she said here], you can find an interview I did!”

This was all a Very Aunt Kathy email. The internet is her bailiwick. She might start working at the Apple store.

Here. Here is the elusive link. This was maybe four years ago, that this interview took place, and Dear Aunt Kathy: You look way hotter now. She’s lost weight, for one, and her hair is better.

Anyway, if you know my aunt, you know that the part where she tears up during the interview is rare and elusive. It’s the unicorn of Aunt Kathy emotions.

Aunt Kathy and I have always been more similar than my relatively steady mother and I. Not that I cry a lot; I don’t. But one might say my every emotion is rather…close to the surface.

Have I ever told you the scary mammogram story? I mean, I know I have. I regale you with that motherfucker every mammogram season. But what I mean is, after the stupid general practitioner said, “Prepare for the worst,” I did what any adult woman would do: I called my mother. I told her the story thus far.

My mother paused. She breathed deeply and serenly. “Well, we don’t really know anything yet,” she said, with all the animation of Liberace at a titty bar.

After we had our even-keeled conversation, I called my Aunt Kathy. Told her the story. Here was her response:

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So. Aunt Kathy and me. Same.

Why was I on this tangent? I forget.

IMG_3496.jpgHere’s today’s Chubby Stick lip color, in a shade called FOR FUCK’S SAKE I CAN’T FIND IT. I put it on yesterday at lunchtime, and although it looks as though I’m posing for my senior picture, really the guy across the street had called an ambulance again. He’s 109, and calls an ambulance all the time.

IMG_3498.jpgThis doesn’t stop me from Gladys Kravitzing every time he does it.

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My point is, just now I looked in the tray, and that one color is missing GODDAMMIT. So I looked in my purse, that endless endless bowel that is my purse, with its 86 zipper compartments and 29 pockets, and I don’t see it. I also looked around that chair I was splayed on, but no.

I just went online, Googled the names of the damn colors, and I think that was Roundest Raspberry.

Oh, hell. I think we’ve done all of them, actually. Because the next one is Grandest Grape, and we already did that, didn’t we? This is why you shouldn’t let me be in charge of things.

I’ll figure it out tonight and present you with a grand finale of all 21 stupid colors, none of which were all that colorful, if you ask me.

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While I’ve been talking to you and tryina figure out lip colors like it’s interesting, I’ve been eating my protein bar, in the hopes that I won’t get to work and want a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit after allegedly burning 394959394 calories at 6 a.m. because I’m in the Army.

Do you capitalize “Army”?

I guess that’s all my big news for now. Oh, I just noticed the date and remembered today is my six-year anniversary of having Lily. I’d already snagged Iris, maybe a week before I got Lily. Before that I’d been out of cats. And now there’s a cacophony of them!

IMG_3513.jpgI just got up to take a photo of the cacophony of cats, and this was the best I could do. Hey, why are my wood floors dull? I mean other than the fact that 32 paws traverse them daily. How do you make ’em shiny again?

I guess I have to Bona them. Which is not a euphemism and here we are back at the beginning.

Talk to you tomorrow, but before I go, what smell makes you the most nostalgic? I was thinking about this last night. I was tryina sleep early cause I knew I had to get up at 5:30, but there was this…BRIGHT LIGHT shining into my window, and I was all, What the hell is that? Ima give the gaybors a piece of my mind if they…

…it was the moon. The moon! Then I didn’t mind the light so much. But anyway that’s what I thought of as I lay there wishing I’d fall the hell asleep already. Why are we always awake when we don’t want to be and sleepy when we can’t be? Why?

So. Smells.

For me, definitely Vick’s Vapo-Rub. And probably really cold winter smells that I can’t remember anymore because I’m never back in Michigan in winter unless someone falls over dead.

I was home in early September once, but just once, and in the early morning it was already frosty, and just the feel of that was very nostalgic to me. The smell of the leaves and the frost and how it was still KIND of summer, but also headed quickly to fall.

You know how if your hair is one way, let’s just say curly, to throw a scenario out there and how’d I think of that. So, your hair is one way, but you do something to it to make it the other way, like straight, but your hair WANTS to be the other way, so as soon as it can, it starts to curl the fuck back up.

That’s how Michigan feels. Sure, it’ll give you two and a half months of “summer,” but it really wants to go back to being cold.

While I’ve been talking to you, the moon went away. I guess I’d better get to work.

Nostalgically,

June

68 thoughts on “June loses the moon

  1. I use Orange Glo Hardwood Floor 4-in-1 Monthly Polish on my wood floors. It is easy to use and dries quickly. My nostalgic smell is Chanel #5. My mom wore it for years and I have always loved it. I found an air freshener that is pretty close to the same scent and it makes me happy when I spray it around the house.

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  2. The smell of fresh cut grass. Always takes me back to summers off school, waking up whenever I wanted, and then going out to play all day.

    Love’s Baby Soft reminds me of my teenage years. I loved that perfume and wore it all through middle and high school.

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  3. The smell of Pierre Cardin cologne for men makes me nostalgic – don’t think you can find it any more, but it was the scent of choice for my version of “Ned.” Not sure if nostalgic is the right word, because those were some strange times, but it would instantly transport me back to the mid-70’s and those years with my “Ned.”

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  4. White Shoulders. So many memories, not all of them legal.

    I felt like such a grown up when I finally got a paper towel holder. I mean, I already had a husband, five kids, a house, two cars, multiple pets and a job but that paper towel holder was the tipping point. And you got a really nice one, too!

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  5. There are so many smells I love . . . but you asked for one. The smell of Joy dish washing detergent used to take me right back to my grandmother’s kitchen in the 1970s, but then Proctor & Gamble changed the scent and now it’s gone. That made me so sad, I wrote the company to complain.

    I still love the smell of a wood-burning fire on an icy, cold winter day.

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    1. I think Joy would take me back to my mom’s kitchen when I was a kid and I’m so disappointed to hear that it doesn’t smell the same. I recently saw a bottle of it and almost bought it.

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  6. Polo takes me to college. Camay soap is my grandma’s bathroom. The faintest smell of natural gas is her kitchen. Simmering vegetable beef stew is my other grandmother’s entire house. Grandmother house smells are my favorite smells in the whole world. I’m an army brat and so my grandmother’s homes were important to me for childhood stuff.

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  7. Also here’s another comment from me and why don’t I restart my old blog. I just recently walked into someone’s house and it had a very strong odor that I immediately recognized, but darned if I could figure out why. I always thought that olfactory memory thing was permanent but now a week later I still have no idea whose house it smelled like and it bothers me.

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  8. Ivory soap, Ivory Snow Flakes used in a wringer washing machine and clothes hung out and ironed are my most nostalgic olfactory memory. Those are all the scents of my grandmother whom I still miss greatly twenty-five years later. She was not a make-up or perfume person at all.

    Being emotional is part of your make-up, June, being a Cancer. It is unaviodable. I can be cold as ice at times being an air sign (Libra) but we tend towards high anxiety.

    I bought a RED lipstick at Walmart last night, thanks to all the lipstick talk here. I also bought chocolate lip pencils last week. I need to play with all of them. I wore red shimmer Burt’s Bees lipbalm yesterday on my bare face for a trip to Penn medicine in Philly. I was wearing black and I felt slightly glam even with my silver highlights (roots) showing

    There, I put my five cents (at least) on you, Pretty Coot Joon.

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  9. Black walnuts. In their natural state, fallen on the ground under the tree. Takes me back to the house I grew up in, fall, our back yard, being a kid, all that. I just teared up a little. I don’t really even have to smell them, just see them.

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  10. As I sit here in Michigan with the temps at negative 11, I have to say your observation of Michigan is spot on. Especially in northern Michigan. Even in the summer we have days that get down into the 30s and it’s like it’s trying to tell you not to get too comfortable because you will be freezing your ass off before you know it.

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  11. Two-stroke exhaust. I know, weird, but it takes me back to all those glorious days when I was a kid running amok at motorcycle scrambles (that’s what they called them back then) races in the hills above Santa Cruz. With a hint of eucalyptus. One Gramma Peggy’s house smelled like food, Gramma Martin smelled like toothpaste, and Gramma Doris smelled like old shoes. Guess where I hung out the most.

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    1. Two-stroke exhaust is like perfume to me. It’s not the scent of my childhood but it’s the scent of my early 20s. The other day, my son fired up a bike that hadn’t been started in about 6 months. When I smelled that exhaust, I got a big ol’ smile on my face. And then started coughing.

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  12. Thanks for including Aunt Kathy’s veeeeedeo . You had an eventful day with surprises in the mail and Lily’s anniversary. It’s hard to believe it’s been six years, including her mysterious months abroad.

    I thought yesterday was raspberry, today was supposed to be violet and tomorrow grape unless I lost a day or two somewhere.

    You’ve made me think with your question about nostalgic fragrances. I’d have to say Old Spice because it would make me think of my dad. Do they even make it any more?

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    1. They do make Old Spice. That’s what my dad used. When my son recently started using deodorant I got Old Spice for him. The first time I smelled it on him I almost cried. Even after seven years, I really miss my dad!

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  13. Vicks Vaporub for me as well. Also, there is a perfume smell that reminds me of my mom when I was young. I have no idea what it was but once in awhile I smell it and it takes me right back.

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  14. The smell of a brand new baby doll takes me back to Christmas mornings of my childhood. I always breathe the smell in deeply.

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  15. A mixture of oil and cigarettes. First awakening of urges with a highschool boyfriend. Always gets me when I have to take my car in to the garage.

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  16. My nostalgic smell is bacon. It always makes me think of my grandfather, who ate bacon and eggs every single morning, all his life. He lived to be 88. Every time I’m trying to talk myself out of eating healthy I whine, “But think of Grampa!” Unfortunately I didn’t get his genes or whatever.

    Love the cats, love the paper towel holder.

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    1. Apropos of nothing to do with this comment, which made me want bacon real bad, my guru at the WordPress says the Sharing button is fixed now, should you want to share this with everyone on the Facebooks.

      Liked by 1 person

  17. The smell of Coppertone suntan lotion immediately takes me back to my childhood. Especially when combined with the smell of a charcoal BBQ. It’s the smell of Thursday late afternoons in the summer, when there would be Hobie Cat regattas in Long Beach with a big BBQ on the beach afterward.

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    1. Remember when we used “Suntan lotion” instead of sunscreen? Those were the days. For me it was the Sea & Ski sunscreen. Swim lessons when I was 7.

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  18. I’m not even sure what makes this smell – but I think of it as “old lady makeup” – it’s like pressed powder smell.

    \When I was really little I used to stay with my great-aunt a lot. She was an old maid and had this great little house,. She spoiled me rotten – made all the foods I loved, would take me on the bus (she never drove) to the store to buy toys. One year I got a new baby doll and she asked to babysit it for a week (we visited her every Sunday). The Sunday we went back, I got my doll back and more than a dozen outfits for her – real baby clothes she bought at the Goodwill and altered to fit my doll. She must have spent the entire week at her sewing machine.

    Anyway, her bedroom had the pressed powder and maybe oil of olay added-in smell, and it makes me remember how very loved I was by her, She died when I was in the third grade.

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  19. Vick’s, Noxema, Breck shampoo, lilacs, freshly picked peaches still warm from the sun, Jean Nate, my mom’s sauce for lasagne, an occasional whiff of tobacco, Ivory soap, the gas off of a stove, freshly baked yeast rolls. Smells that still evoke memory but you can’t find anymore are dittos (not the pants!), Hawaiian Tropic, the original Herbal Essence shampoo, Coppertone suntan lotion, Love’s Musky Jasmine cologne.

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    1. One of the bath and body works hand soaps smells just like the original herbal essence shampoo! It took a few days before I could place the scent!

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  20. Emeraude, by Coty, reminds me of my mother. I keep a bottle just for that reason. Love’s Baby Soft reminds me of living on Gallagher Street when you were a little girl.

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  21. Palmolive dish soap reminds me of my grandma. She always used Palmolive and I used it for a while because it made me think of her. I had to switch to Dawn because it takes stains out of clothes.

    My husband has started using an aftershave he really likes, but it makes me think of old men. I finally realized my grandfather used that aftershave in his barbershop. Now I have to get through a whole bottle’s worth of old man smells before I can buy him something else.

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  22. I almost forgot! June, how is that protein bar? I considered buying those recently, but wasn’t sure if they would be good and if they would keep me from being hungry an hour later.

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  23. Coppertone sun tan lotion or English Leather. Wore Heaven Scent all through high school, bought some a few yrs ago, didn’t smell at all the same

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  24. The smell of freshly sawed wood always brings me back to my freshman year of high school when I was on the stage crew for the summer musical and I met the cutest boy I had ever seen. We hung out all that summer and he was the first boy to cop a feel. Almost exactly 10 years later we reconnected and dated for the summer and he copped lots of feels before I moved away. Fresh sawdust is my favorite smell.

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  25. It wouldn’t let me respond (again) because my email is associated with some other computer. I think it was I actually filled in the lower part. (Did I mention I hate computers?). Anyway, I’m famous now.

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  26. Bus exhaust. I have no idea why. And Jean Nate. But not together.

    And I’m so glad you mentioned your bottomless purse, June. I have a normal-size hobo bag, with two side pockets, and an interior zipper compartment, and I swear to God it has a false bottom that leads to Narnia or something. I mean, I KNOW I have something in there, but I can never find it until I don’t need that particular thing anymore (hand cream, keys, wallet, whatever – they ALL get lost). To make things worse, I have all these friends who say, primly, “I decided to use just this tiny, postage-stamp-size purse, and now I don’t lose anything.” Once, being desperate, I tried to use a smaller bag. It was a nightmare. I didn’t have any of the stuff I needed, and things STILL got lost in it; only, when I inevitably had to search through it, everything else would spill out of it. Embarrassing.

    My point being, big-purse people cannot become small-purse people. It doesn’t work.

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    1. I can relate because I’m the opposite. I cannot carry a big purse. I’ve tried, but I shove crap in and it gets heavy. I can never find anything and I yell all the naughty yells ending with, “I hate this purse!” Oh my gosh I hate them. I’m a small purse girl and no doubt.

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      1. I started being a big purse person when I tried to make the change from diaper bag back to a regular purse. Cannot happen. And now, 26 years later I still prefer a big purse. It also has to do with the fact that I am a big lady and would look silly with a small purse strapped across this shoulder.

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  27. So many smells for me. Lilacs mixed with cut grass are my room in the summer when I was a kid. This green soap my Papaw used. It was gritty. A Christmas candle my mom burned only on Christmas eve. I don’t know what the scent is and haven’t been able to find it. Obsession perfume is Jr. High. Drakkar is High School.

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  28. That is a good color, regardless of the name. Hope you find it.

    Give Aunt Kathy a hug (I’m usually not a hugger) for me. I appreciate her effort of finding her dad’s army records. I struggled with the same issue when I was trying to get my dad’s records. My dad was in the Battle of the Bulge as well and helped liberate the death camps. Unfortunately, the National Records Center in St Louis burned back in the 70s or 80s and his records were in that portion of the building.

    The smell of an unvented gas heater takes me right back to my grandmother’s house and Pond’s face cream. My grandmother faithfully used that cream and she never had wrinkles, at least I don’t recall her having any.

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  29. That jasmine vine smell. My great gramma used to babysit us a lot when we were little and she had it growing in her yard. Laer when I lived in South America for a year and a half they were selling flowers on the streets that smelled just like that and whoosh! I was back at gramma’s. I made sure they were on my wedding cake when I got married.

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  30. Believe it or not, mine is rubbing alcohol. First whiff of that and I’m suddenly 9 years old again, meticulously cleaning the studs in my newly-pierced ears because I was given a stern warning about INFECTION AND HOW YOU CAN DIE IF YOU DON’T KEEP THOSE STUDS CLEAN!!! Okay, those might not have been the exact words, but those are the words my brain imprinted upon itself. So yeah…rubbing alcohol.

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  31. @Jeanie, YES, that new baby doll smell and Christmas! New shower curtain liners used to smell exactly like the vinyl dolls were made of in the 1960’s when I was small. I worked in the domestic department for a while in a store and I adored that shower curtain liner smell. I have tried to explain to a few males but they could not relate. I guess none of their toys smelled like that.

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    1. I totally love shower curtain liner smell! Sniiiifffffffff, sighhh. It’s not as good as it used to be though.

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  32. *explain it*. I get way too excited about these topics and it effects my proof reading abilities which are not great. I am in awe of you, June, and lots of other people here. I do read them but I need to do it multiple times I guess.

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  33. For me it’s Chanel No 5. My grandma wore it and every time I smell it I think of her hugs and can hear her voice. God I miss that woman!

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  34. Fresh cut grass reminds me of being 6 when we lived in a suburb outside of Chicago. Cool wind and the smell of pinetrees reminds me of being in Eagle River, Wisconsin where my grandparents had their vacation home. Also, lipstick that actually smells the way all lipstick smelled in the 60’s and 70’s reminds me of being little.

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  35. Wet cement. I remember *helping” my dad to mix cement in the garden as a small child. In retrospect, he was probably giving my mother a break, more than he actually needed my 6 or 8 year old help; but that smell is so distinctive it always immediately takes me right back. On the rare occasions that I have anything to do with mixing cement.

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  36. Hibiscus plants: flowers and leaves. Not a strong smell, but very evocative for me–early childhood in Miami with my beloved grandparents.

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  37. Orange and grapefruit blossoms and fried chicken. Every winter we would go down to St. Petersburg, FL, when it was still a tiny town, and the fruit trees in my grandparents’ back yard would always be in bloom. I would hang out by those trees for hours because my grandmother would lock me out of the house so I would get “fresh air”. Of course, that was code for “she is driving me crazy, get her out.” After I was allowed back in the house, we would often have the most incredible fried chicken in the world. Sadly, her recipe died with her, but I don’t think anyone could replicate it anyway. She lived to be 98, and wasn’t of sound mind the last 7 years. But she always had a smile on her face, and a song on her lips right up to the end.

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  38. Lumber and Dreft laundry detergent! Lumber smells like my Saturdays when I would go with my dad to the lumberyard and pretend like I was an only child. I’m from a family of 7 kids so one-to-one time with either parent was pretty rare and I LOVED it. Dreft takes me instantly back to when I was expecting my daughter and would wash all the tiny little new clothes I received. I vividly remember sitting there folding little onesies with my dog sitting next to me.

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  39. The smell of bonfires/campfires takes me right back to my grandparents lake house in the piney woods of east Texas where I spent so many summers and school vacations. We had fires every night. We mainly burned, leaves, scrub brush, and pine branches and needles. It’s a very earthy smell, and I recognize it immediately.

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  40. That is such a great video of Aunt Kathy.

    As for the smells…I think baking chocolate chip cookies brings me back to my mother’s kitchen. She always took everything off the counter top, and would leave the cookies right there to cool…rows and rows of them. When you went to steal one they were always a little bit stuck to the counter, so you couldn’t do it fast.

    Love all the memories in the comments…

    Lovely post, lovely June!

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  41. Estee’ Lauder Youth Dew reminds me of Nanny and Aunt Louise. Oh, how I miss them.
    In the 70s, my mother used a thick pinkish moisturizer made by Mary Kay. Every now and then, I’ll come across some makeup or another lotion that smells like it. Immediately I’m a little girl again watching my mother sitting on the edge of her bed, in her white nightgown, slathering on her special moisturizer.

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  42. Cigarettes outside in the cold, at night. A new box of crayons. Shalimar perfume on my grandmother’s fur coat. (Fur wasn’t mortal sin back then.)

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  43. Can a scent be negatively nostalgic? If so, mine is Ivory Bar Soap. My mom frequently used it to wash my mouth out after a verbal transgression. It didn’t work in the way she intended as I still swear but I do avoid Ivory on the store shelf.
    My positive is a perfume I don’t know the name of but Grandma wore on special occasions. Every once in awhile, I’ll catch a hint of it in a crowd but it seems impolite to go around sniffing elderly women to grill them on their perfume choices.

    Lovely post Ass Coot, Juan? The tagline has gotten more difficult over recent weeks so I’m not sure what’s right anymore…

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  44. I’ve been on a lifelong search for the perfect paper towel thing and every one I get I think THIS IS THE ONE and it never is. Coconut reminds me of my teenage years, going to the beach, Hawaiin Tropic sun oil. Scorched my skin and I have the age spots to prove it. Oh well. “Very Army” killed me.

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  45. I have a music box that had been my mom’s, and she’d given it to me when I was little. I accidentally snapped off the little ballerina inside it. Anyway, somehow the inside of that box smells like not just my childhood, but my mother’s too.

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  46. Nostalgic smells? Mine are the old school beauty products, like Jergens lotion, Pond’s cold cream, and Noxema. Also, too? Precious interview but WHY must there always be loud music when people are talking? It must not bother anyone else but it annoys me to no end. I find myself trying to turn down the music so I can hear what’s being said.

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  47. Mom’s light blue smock from working the makeup and perfume counter at the local drugstore always smelled like a combination of Juicy Fruit gum and Pall Mall cigarettes. She was a single mother in the 70s of five kids and worked two jobs. We rarely saw her. Every morning before school I would open up the hall closet and smell her smock before school.

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  48. Pond’s Cold Cream, Listerine (mint), and spotty-brown bananas all remind me of my grandmother on my dad’s side. I can smell each of those just thinking about them.

    I miss her.

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  49. Nostalgia.. well that’s the salty smell of the beach! Somehow, everytime I get a whiff of that salt in the air, I am transported back to a moment when I am sitting in my mother’s lap facing the water and babbling away to glory.
    Only I never realised then, just how blissful that tiny fraction in time was!

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