I've managed to create a smell that has forced the combined memory of my mother and I in warm kitchens on cool nights, covering school text books in Shaw's paper bags, and spreading papers across the dining room table, it is the smell of ballet shoes and sulfurish water bottles and bare blistered feet and recipe hunting and sharpened pencils and bonnie raitt wafting in from the living room and the evening news from the family room . It is a a garage door opening and the dog barking and my father sneezing so loudly and the phone ringing and my friend Amy asking if I can sleepover this weekend.
The recipe for this dreamy series of soothing recollection is simmering tomato sauce and baking zucchini bread.
No comments:
Post a Comment