The weather changed suddenly, maybe not quite so suddenly, but I wasn’t paying attention. Change has caught me off guard lately. When the cool nights crept through the window and chilled my bare legs I knew it was time to open the cedar chest and bring out my winter bedding.
My cedar chest has a smooth modern finish with dark green felt lining. It was a gift for starting a new life as an adult. The 70’s country home style, only a step away from some little house on the prairie retelling. It altogether wouldn’t surprise me if it once housed table linens printed with large green apples. The appeal is more than the rich cedar smell, it’s what’s inside. A web of flowers and lace crotchet by delicate hands and keen dark eyes. Great Grandma knew she wanted to give me something before her mind faded, she wrote a card in her sweet pea delicate script. “Give this to her when she has her own home, won’t you Mary?” She asked.
That warm and musky aroma…breathing in memories of an old closet with furs and tweed coats, a string hangs just far enough down for a small hand to reach, pulled with a twang, released, and yellow light floods the closed space exposing dark corners where wrinkled leather shoes lie like forgotten raisins. I revel in these memories pulling the comforter in, wrapping it about myself on my bed.
Funny how people work so hard to make their homes smell like fresh linens or flowers laced with citrus and perfume, give me the warm comfort of a blanket from the cedar chest and I will tell you that place smells like home.