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Those beautiful, overwhelming smells that remind you of your childhood, whether it be good, or bad memories. I still recall the scent of my grandparents old farmhouse, it almost makes me cry the way I feel inside when I smell even something as simple as noxema, an item my grandmother always had in her washroom.

Sometimes, when the wind is blowing just right, even in a city filled with modern heating systems, I still smell the wood smoke from distant fireplaces, and it reminds me of the log house my family used to live in.

My favourite childhood smell, one that still lingers, is undoubtedly that of my mothers sweat, as odd as that may seem. It reminds me of how hard she worked, and still does work, to keep us happy, grounded (in a good way), and to make us feel loved.

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