Tuesday's Ten: 10 Sensory Childhood Memories
The Georges siblings B.Z. (Before Isaiah)
Who knows what we were even doing here? And who cares? Childhood is so carefree.
- Childhood looks like New York streets in yellow taxi cabs. And in a green Saturn. And in a beige Ford Taurus. Interesting people and places whiz by. Graffiti murals stretch over building sides.
- Childhood sounds like car stereo playing 90s hits, and gospel cassettes, and eventually CDs, because we are so modern. Music never stops and technology is so exciting.
- Childhood smells like lemon cleaning products, because that is what clean smells like. There was Ajax until we had Joy and there was Pledge.
- Childhood tastes like cheesecake - Junior's strawberry cheesecake - the late night delight that dad brings home after work and the any occasion treat.
- Childhood feels like hugs and kisses from folks I can't name who love me all the same and from family gathered for miles and miles around.
- Childhood looks like Tulsa hills rolling to and fro and up and down, to school and to market, and best of all to home.
- Childhood sounds like opening credits and marvelous film scores. Composers' songs play over and over, out of my speaker and inside my head. - John Williams, James Howard, and best of all, Hans Zimmer.
- Childhood smells like eucalyptus resting in a vase on the small table in the entryway of our home, the first thing that I smell when I walk in the door.
- Childhood tastes like Little Debbie Snacks for lunch at school and for snack at home - yellow marshmallow creme pies, and mysterious cosmic brownies, simple oatmeal creme pies and double Swiss Rolls.
- Childhood feels like wind in my face - chasing a soccer ball down the field, swinging like a pendulum between sun and clouds, and zipping downhill on my bicycle wheels.