During the course of the day yesterday, I had two incidents where my childhood hit me square in the nose.

The first instance was a trip to Orscheln Farm & Home store. Everybody in Seward pronounces the name of this store “Orsh’-lin”. I don’t know why. But it reminded me of my childhood because of the way it smells. It is a mix of rubber and feed and poison and grass seed. It smells, in fact, exactly like a store called Gimble’s that used to be just down the street from my Grandpa and Grandma Royuk’s in Arlington, Nebraska. As a kid, I’d spend many days in Gimble’s looking at pocket knives and toys. And I always opened and smelled the catfish bait even though it smelled really bad.

A guy came out of the store right after this picture and wondered what I was doing.  I drove away quickly.

The second instance of childhood remembrance was a simple trip to Lloyd and Lauren’s shed. It smells just like a building at my Grandpa and Grandma Hummel’s old farm place. The smell is a mix of dirt and oil and wood and gasoline. At my grandparents’ place, I was always worried about wasps. But there are no wasps in Lloyd and Lauren’s shed. I’m actually pretty mystified by that.

I needed the wheelbarrow.

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10 Responses to Smellories

  1. Deanne says:

    Smelling the catfish bait… it’s all part of creating a mental catalogue of experiences.

  2. Lloyd says:

    That’s not our spreader. We don’t have a spreader, do we? Is the Creeping Charlie all dead and you are reseeding or have you opened a crematorium and are spreading ashes that?

    • Lloyd says:

      Dang it – that’s me, not Lloyd. How do I fix that?

      P.S. My dad wants to know if you’re ‘interceding’. Ha ha ha.

      • Lauren says:

        Oh. Like that. I’ve been rather tired/lazy lately and don’t even look at the Name (required) box. Chalk it up to being an idiot.

        • Brad says:

          I’ll leave the comments alone so your follow ups make sense.

          I got some granular poison for the Creeping Charlie, but the ground hasn’t been wet enough to use it. I may just have to wet the lawn with the hose.

  3. Carol says:

    You and your nose/brain connection had a great day, didn’t you (all)? That’s pretty cool…

    Smemories (as I call ’em) are marvelous, aren’t they? The cellar of the paternal grandparents always had barrels of spices Grandpop used in the sausage-making: sage, fennel, coriander, you name it. When there are barrels (rather than tiny McCormick jars-full) they can really fill the air with olefactory stimuli. I rarely find a place that smells that strong of spices any more (have to make a field trip to Hunt Valley some day, eh?), but when I do it takes me right back… ah! …

  4. Peggy says:

    Haha…this post made me laugh! Smells of poison, dirt, etc…ha!

    I love when I smell a certain kind of rubber or plastic. It’s the smell of Christmas toys for me. Ahhhhh!

    As for the catfish bait, I think it’s pretty common knowledge that all guys are infatuated with stinky smells.

  5. auntie linda says:

    It was Gambles Brad, not Gimbles…Happy 10th of July!
    auntie linda

  6. auntie linda says:

    However, Paul said there was a large department store in New York called Gimbel’s…
    btw, you spent FIVE hours in Lincoln and we got not even a phone call?????!!!!#@$

    • Brad says:

      Oops. I must’ve watched “A Miracle on 32nd Street” too many times. They talk about Gimbel’s in that movie.

      Sorry about not calling. It was supposed to be just a quick trip to Lincoln.

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