Five Good Things #3

Lately I’ve felt my spirits starting to slip a little for any number of reasons, so I thought it would be a good time for another installment of “good things.”  My first two installments were “10 Good Things,” but I’ve decided to reduce it to five, so as to not overwhelm the writer or the reader.  That would be you.  After all, five things are plenty to sink in and give you something to ponder.

(1) Fireflies. What says summer more than they do?  They have been out in full force around my house lately and they really take me back to simpler times in my life.  I remember how my little gang and I used to wait until dark and then run around the neighborhood, clutching Mason jars and vying to see who could catch the most.  At the time, it was just the most fun!  Ah, good times.

(2) A package in the mail. I’m one of those people who actually enjoy getting the mail, bills and all.  But, when I open up the box and see a package inside, I get a little surge of joy.  I mean, even when you’re expecting something you have ordered, it’s nice to actually receive it.  It’s like a little present to yourself.  And, if it’s something you’re not expecting, well, that’s even better.

(3) Organ Donors. They are often the forgotten heroes.  Last Thursday was the first episode of  “Boston Med,” a documentary of actual doctors and hospitals filmed in real-time.  One of the story lines was about two people waiting for a lung transplant when a healthy lung becomes available.  As they interviewed the people waiting and their families, it made me so aware of what a gift it is for someone to think ahead and make their organs available.  It is a really good thing.

(4) Bacon. For me, there is no aroma more welcoming than that of bacon cooking.  And not just any bacon.  I have found the perfect bacon.  It is Oscar Mayer Louis Rich Turkey Bacon.  I know, I know, you wouldn’t think turkey bacon would taste real and I’ve found that other brands don’t.  But this stuff is heaven!  You put two pieces on a plate folded between a paper towel, microwave them two minutes and then remove them. And you have two perfectly cooked pieces of bacon with no grease and they taste wonderful! And here’s the best part.  A piece of this is 35 calories, 2.8 gms of fat.  One piece of regular bacon is 120 calories!  Think of that next time you want to chow down on a great BLT!

(5) Sunrises. Every morning I step out on my balcony in the dark and watch the sun rise on the horizon.  And every morning I’m in awe of God’s handiwork.  What better time to say my prayers?

And I can’t think of a better way to end this post.

Got some good things of your own to share? Jump right in!  The comments are all yours.

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Did You Smell That?

The smell of newly-mown hay immediately transports me back to long family car vacations when we would travel through miles and miles of farmland on our way to somewhere exciting.  I can get a mere whiff of a peony and see my grandma strolling through her backyard garden, picking a bouquet just for me.  The smell of bread baking or cinnamon fills me with the cozy promise of something good to come.  Conversely, rubbing alcohol reminds me of long worried walks down hospital corridors.  And the smell of melted cheese immediately engages my gag reflex.

What has gotten me to thinking about all of these sensory associations is something I heard on the news last week.  Apparently someone did a study and determined that the top three favorite smells of men polled were:  1) leather, 2) bacon and 3) WD-40.  I have to admit I was surprised.  I would have expected beer, pizza, cheap perfume and/or sweat!  The leather one has me particularly confused.  Where do men smell leather?  If the poll had just been among cowboys, okay, then the saddle smell would explain it.  But other than that?  And then there’s WD-40.  What’s with that?  I’ve used it and it does have a distinctive smell, but a favorite smell?  It must be a male thing.

Bacon, now that I totally understand!  The smell of bacon would have to rank as one of my favorites, too.  To come downstairs to that wonderfully appealing aroma assures me that, no matter what else happens, at least the day is starting right.

But there’s always the danger that a wonderful smell can come to be associated with something not so wonderful and thus be ruined forever.  That’s what happened to me.

In high school I dated an extremely drop-dead handsome, sexy guy named Jack.  And if you didn’t believe me, you could have asked him!  He had these deep, dark brown seductive eyes and blond hair, helped along by the spray-in product called “Sun-In,” remember that?  He dressed well and wore only one kind of cologne – English Leather.  Now Jack was from the school that believed that if a little cologne drove a woman crazy, a lot would send her out of her mind.  And, as much as I hate to admit it now, it worked on me when I was only sixteen and didn’t know any better.  I loved, loved, loved English Leather!

Okay, so one day Jack and I went to an amusement park and had a great day riding the rides.  Toward the end of the day he wanted to ride something called “The Caterpillar.”  This was a ride where people would be put in two-person cars that were strung together and went at lightning speed around a track that sloped up and down.  About halfway through the ride, a tarp-like top covered all the cars and you would be riding in the dark at breakneck speed, which was a bit disorienting.  When the top covered us, Jack pulled me closer in the dark.  All I could feel was his hot breath on my neck and his arms around me.  All I could smell was his English Leather.  I remember thinking, “Oh Momma, THIS IT IT!” It was fun, exciting, and so very, very sexy…right up until he leaned forward and threw up on my feet! Did I mention I was wearing sandals? The ride went on for what felt like three years, locked as I was in that dark, claustrophobic vomitorium.  I thought I was going to die!

When the ride finally mercifully ended, poor embarrassed Jack handed me out of the car, which was a good thing because my feet were slick inside the sandals with you-know-what.  We found a faucet in which I tried to rinse off my feet, but all the way home, all I could smell was the smell of English Leather, with a side-serving of barf.  Needless to say, those were two things I never wanted to smell again.

So, what had been one of my all-time favorite smells was irretrievably lost to me forever.

Fortunately… I’ve still got bacon!

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