Some months ago, about 4.5 actually, I somehow convinced my husband to move across the country to my childhood hometown. Trust me, it made sence. I have a lot of extended family here, a transferable job and he only had to be accepted to and attend a school. What can I say? It all worked out.
So we have now been living here for about 6 weeks and while we have loved it from the start I am only now getting the feeling that this is home again, only a whole new home with my new family.
As I was on my daily commute home from work, (an entire 7-8 minute drive) I noticed that there was a smell missing. Granted it had been 12.5 years but THAT smell was missing. THAT smell I speak of was one that always confused me as a child. It was as we passed the bakery, but it wasn’t the bakery, no,no,no. It was the stockyard across from the bakery.
As a child I had always heard adults (my mom in the car) complaining about the stench yet I was confused by it. It didn’t stink. It smelled slightly sweet but not in a way that made you want to eat it, like sweet milk but slightly burnt. Oh how innocent I was. I now know what that smell was. It was the stockyard. It was the smell of mass amounts of blood.
I knew what a stockyard was and what they did there but I did not grasp it because I never saw a single animal. The funny thing? I miss the smell. I know what that smell means now but I still miss it. It’s nostalgic. So there is one more weird thing about me. I find the smell of large amounts of cows blood comforting. Gross.