Memory Lane Continued

Memory Lane Continued

Written by : Jeffrey R Hilton

Growing up on the farm holds so many fond memories. Some of my favorite memories are smells and I remember them like it was yesterday. No not the outhouse although that's hard to shake.


I'm talking about the smell of the fresh cut grass in the morning sun.
Fresh cut fields of hay. The hen house and the granary. 
The smell of each part of the barn, like the main floor with it's animal smells. Pigs, horses on occasion, cows. 
The smell of the milk house and the tool room with all the old greasy or oily parts laying around after most of the animals had gone. The smell of green hay and straw upstairs in the barn, first maturing and later the smell of it when it went stale or moldy and turned sour.


I remember the smell of wood burning and wood being cut and chopped. The smell of grandma's kitchen when we would all file in for some lunch after she had come out on the porch and bellowed at the top of her lungs " DINNER ! " It seemed like her voice would almost always carry to wherever we were on that farm and the smell of fried potatoes an everyday staple made from leftovers the evening before.


I remember the smell of wheat and oats being harvested. The smell of an amazing array of flowers in bloom scattered about throughout the property. There were daffs,tulips,roses,correopsis,daisies,asters,mums and pansies. bluebells,cornflowers, hyacinths and sweet peas and lily of the valley both as fragrant as each other.

The distinctive smells of either the big Case tractor or the smaller Massey Ferguson. The smell of the fields as we turned over the rich earth with the plow.
The smell of fresh tar that wafted over to us from the side road when it was being resurfaced or oiled. 
The scent of mothballs in closets that looked suspiciously like Scottish mints. 


There were a few old cars scattered about the farm and even an old combine no longer in use.
When we got a little older, one of the older kids would sneak across the highway to the truck stop and buy a pack of smokes.  We would then climb into an old abandoned car in the field away from prying adult eyes. The dead of winter and the smell of the old dusty cloth interior and the strong smell of cigarettes,  are smells I cannot forget.


The smell and the sound of coal coming down our chute into the basement as the coal man delivered.
the smell of peanuts after opening a preserve jar full of them that were grown in our garden.
The smell of apples rotting on the ground and the smell of fall in the air.
the lilac bushes in bloom.
The smell of wet grass after a storm and leaves burning in the fall.


I remember the smell of the aptly named skunk cabbage which was potent when near it in a woods but really strong if kicked inadvertently.
I hope you found this olfactory tour amusing. If you were born on a farm perhaps it awakened some old memories for you as well.

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Until next time; Good Day !

Jeffrey R Hilton