ahhh so many!
The scent of pelargonium immediately propels me into my grandma's glasshouse, where I as a very young lad, spent many a happy hour, sitting in a box/bench, filled with toys and old stuff. I can still hear the rain patter of the reinforced glass roofpanes. Oldfashioned cooking or a warming up coal/woodfed stove does the same into her kitchen.
Diesel/rubber/trucksmells propel me back to the days I spent with my dad in and around his truck; the only happy memories I have of/with him.
The scent of pelargonium immediately propels me into my grandma's glasshouse, where I as a very young lad, spent many a happy hour, sitting in a box/bench, filled with toys and old stuff. I can still hear the rain patter of the reinforced glass roofpanes. Oldfashioned cooking or a warming up coal/woodfed stove does the same into her kitchen.
Diesel/rubber/trucksmells propel me back to the days I spent with my dad in and around his truck; the only happy memories I have of/with him.