Back on the Sixties...
Yeah, I'm old.

We lived on a dirt road in the middle of nothing, woods all around. Along the sides of the road were raspberry bushes, overhanging the road. In June you could walk along there and eat raspberries to your fill and never come close to depleting them.

Once a ear Mom would send us out with plastic containers to gather as many wild raspberries as we could. We would spend the day gathering them, bringing back our containers to Mom who poured them into a kettle on the stove. She spent the day making jam out of them, and at the same time baked loaves of bread.

That night we would eat jam and bread for dinner, as much as we could fit.

It only happened once a year, and maybe all of five times. But I still remember the wonderful smell.
( Wanderer, Mon 29 May 2017, 21:05, 2 replies)

Smells bringing back memories...
There's a song by Cud called 'Magic' and it includes the lyric: 'It's magic when you find on your tongue a taste that reminds you of when you were young'

With me it was always smells. It happens more often than you'd think.

(And no, for once I am not talking about my dilapidated dungfunnel)

*click*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Tue 30 May 2017, 15:02, closed)

Trufax.
There have actually been studies done on this phenomenon. Turns out that smell is one of the strongest triggers to memory- for instance, Scotch tape always makes me think of wrapping Christmas presents.

And the smell of burning trash reminds me of this guy I knew who never bathed, and who I swear must have been the basis for Foul Ole Ron...
( Wanderer, Wed 31 May 2017, 8:20, closed)