My grandparents lived in the great state of Oregon during my early teen years. Mom, in an what I'm quite sure was an effort to keep her sanity, regularly shipped me and my brothers to spend the summer with them. They had a beautiful house surrounded by a forest (whether or not it's an actual forest, I'm not sure. We San Diegan's qualify more than two trees in a five mile radius a forest) on a street full of kids our age (and my older, cooler brother lived in the area too).
On our first full day in Seattle, hubby and I drove around, enjoying the beauty of Washington state. It started to rain a little and we pulled off the road at our destination. I opened the car door, took a deep breath of the fresh Seattle air and...
I smelled summers by the pool, freshly picked blueberries for my Captn Crunch cereal, unlimited laser tag, the hot neighborhood boy who cycled by grandma and grandpa's house every night, tanned feet, McMinimins, swimming in the river, hiking to Wally's dam, and praying the raspberries we ate off the bushes on the side of the road weren't poisonous.
I saw their minivan parked with a tennis ball resting on the glass, the woodworking garage, their perfectly obedient poodle, and the wood roof that required work every summer.
I saw my childhood flash before my eyes in one sniff. Turns out, following a light rain, Washington state smells just like Oregon circa 1993.
Chris, oblivious to my flashback, walked around the car holding our son, "You ready to go?"
"I wanphsti meu seuthiws" SNIFFFF "eurhw suhtgi euhiuih" (which in blubbering cry language is "I miss my grandma and grandpa and their house in Oregon!!")
Fortunately we were at one of the most soothing places known to woman (a chocolate factory). Hubby ordered a milk chocolate covered white chocolate peanut butter square stat.
Had it not been for the IV drip of chocolate to my veins, it would have been a rough day.
Here's to some of the best summers of my life. Thanks grams and gramps (and my brother who funded all those laser tag games).