They say smell is the most evocative of the senses, and yet most of us cannot adequately descibe an odor. If I say something is blue or cold, you know exactly what I mean. If I say a smell is sweet, it leaves much to interpretation. Am I referring to roses or chocolate?
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There’s just something about this house. The decor is frozen in the 1960s. The carpet is green; the walls are covered with flowered paper; the trim is a wonderful natural wood. The flowered sofa is camoflaged into the walls.
We could be Gage and DeSoto, or Friday and Gannon. Just the facts, Ma’am.
As we turn to leave, I notice the writing desk by the door and something clicks. This place smells like Grandma’s house.
Along with the stress and frustrations, the highs and lows, this job can bring small, simple pleasures.
Grandma’s house.
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