Not long ago, Danny said something that triggered a long discarded memory involving figs. Reading THIS post I sat nodding in understanding when the author explains the association between figs and coconut. I always thought I was alone in connecting the two. Amazing how our senses, and memories save things for us when we seem to need them most.
Really, how strange is it, some thirty years later to recall a scent so clearly, when nearly every other aspect of the time is lost to me? What sort of person recalls scents? My sort of person, I suppose. I might not be able to identify the fragrance a person is wearing (I don't really keep up with brands) but I can probably nail what it is made of, far beyond the obvious top notes. Still, the fig/coconut thing always seemed so obvious to me, and incomprehensible to anyone I mentioned it to, that I eventually accepted it as one of my strange "nose" quirks, like ketchup smelling reminiscent of body odour.
Figs are a sort of comfort food to me, like soft boiled eggs, or a too weak, too sweet cup of tea. Unlike eggs and tea, figs tend to be a bit out of my budget range these days. Remember those dried figs on a piece of string? Close to nine dollars at Hy-Vee. We won't even discuss the cost of fresh ones, in season. Obviously, I don't get my hands on many figs, much less the coconut scented leaves. Really, I don't need them-my memory has stored them for me...in case I need them.
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Last Saturday afternoon, while listening to the 1950-something recording of flutist Herbie Mann playing "Baubles, Bangles and Beads," I recalled my grandmother's perfume vividly. I hadn't thought about or "smelled" it in probably decades (she died in 1979).
How neat.
I wonder what scents Danny will remember from his childhood (I'm hoping it is something nice, like bread baking-not the stench of the neighbour's cattle).
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