Mothballs

As I was walking into my parents garage last weekend I was hit with a wave of....not nausea but nostalgia. If you have not already heard my parents have a new pet at their house. We have named him Fred. He likes to lay on the garage door when it is up and drop down in front of you when you close it. We are hoping that Fred will drop dead soon. Fred is a 5 ft long snake. So Dad has put mothballs all over the garage. While most people are disgusted by the smell of them, I however love it. Maybe love isn't the word, but I love the feelings and memories that envelop me because of the smell. You may think this odd, but truthfully I don't care. When that odor hits me it triggers memories of my grandparents farm. My grandmother always had mothballs in the closets and chests in her house. Just smelling them reminds me of visits there with my cousins. Staying up late playing Rummy, Life, Monopoly and Trivial Pursuit. Chasing the barn cats and trying to catch them and we all know what happened when we finally did. Walking in the pastures down to the pond. The farm was a wonderful place to visit. I imagine that it was an even better place to spend your entire childhood. 350 D Earnhardt Rd was our family's meeting place, our homestead, and not a day goes by that I don't miss it. Smelling mothballs.... it takes me back to all those wonderful times.