Entry for 22nd July, 2008

The sense of smell seems to carry you back through time in the way that the other senses don't. Sometimes the whiff of buttery toast can take me back to lying in bed with measles at the age of 8. The smell of lemon tea can take me back to my grandma's kitchen in less than the blink of an eye.
The boys were coming round tonight for our fortnightly game of dungeons and dragons. I had half an hour to spare so I decided to make some stock for soup. I don't do this very often, but I took a notion and boiled up a chicken carcass and threw in some herbs and an onion.
So, there I was in the kitchen. Getting ready for my pals to come round to play Dungeons and Dragons, with the soup bubbling away in the background. The smell of chicken and steam and pepper and onion rolled around the room. And just for a moment - a really happy moment - I was back in my old house, aged 14. Mum had put the soup on to boil. I was setting up the room for a night with my friends. And at any minute now my mum might come into the room to stir the pot or make a cup of tea.
And then the moment vanished. Leaving me alone in the house, without any prospect of my mum coming in from next door. The pot still bubbled away though, and my kids slept happily upstairs as the smell of chicken soup drifted through our happy little house.