"...we part with tender relations stretching far behind us, that never can be exactly renewed..."
A post as evocative as the smell of cinnamon! Thanks for sharing such a warm
memory.
I so admire your ability to remember the little things and to write about them. If it is about the drive to work, playing ball with your step father or smelling basted turkey.
Your ability to observe things and remember them enables you write about them with such detail and clarity.
Very nice post 
Very nice.
Memories of long ago are like sepia photographs in an old album. They contain a moment in time without much of the surrounding detail; quite often the most vivid memories seem stored without rhyme or reason, as though our minds were cameras set to go off at random intervals, taking snapshots of both the important and the trivial. Your piece captures this very well and shares your nostalgia for this moment with all of us.
Another matter that you illustrate so well is how the sense of smell is so important to memory. How often do we catch the scent of something that sparks a memory and takes us back through the years to another time? There is nothing better than the smell of fresh baked bread...
Patry:
You're welcome. Your thoughtful response is appreciated.
Scot
Melly:
Good to see you check in. Thank you for your thoughtful and encouraging response.
Scot
Clive:
". . .snapshots of both the important and the trivial. . ." It is that, isn't it. Thanks for sharing your perspective on this. As always, I am appreciative of your visits, and for taking the time to comment on how you responded to my work.
Scot
Scot- Your writing always reverberates deeply, though our lives may differ greatly.
The cold, harsh sting of the seasons weather next to the comforting smells of good food dug up deep emotions for me. ( i particularly love the smells you listed, the sweet ones)
Now I can't wait for the family comforts and good smells of Thanksgiving. Thank you for getting those feelings going early.
Dave:
It is always good to see you check in. Your thoughtful and kind responses are appreciated, and I thank you for sharing how you reflect on my work.
Scot
Sepia tones. I've always been fascinated by how much more alive sepia pictures seem than those in black and white. That's how this piece is for me. Though you mention no other people, I know they are there, by the peacefulness I think.
You pull back a curtain and let me watch something special in your life. You tell what it means by the images you choose your dad's care for you, the smell of baked bread, the sharing of a feast.
You are a master writer at this kind of narrative. Thank you for the gentle way you reveal your art.
Liz:
You're welcome. Your assessment and compliment of my work is always thoughtful and kind, but I especially appreciate how you share the nuances you pick up on with what I've written. Sepia is, indeed, so much more than just black and white: the tone--warmer and richer. Thanks for stopping by . . .
Scot
I love the triptophan-laced aroma of basting bird of Thanksgiving, along with the proportionate gluttonyof mashed potatoes, stuffing, and, of course, the pumkin pie with a dollop of whipped cream. Okay, make that three dollops.
Thanks for visiting today.
FTS:
You're welcome. Your visit and comment is appreciated as well.
Scot
mmmmm.. I can't wait for Thanksgiving now.
Thanks, rdl.
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