Smell is the weirdest sense I think. It is so deeply rooted in us and so animalistic, and we have such poor language for it, yet smells are so tremendously evocative.
I woke up this morning out of a solid sleep because there was a strong smell in the house I couldn't place. The man checked the burners were off on the gas stove, but couldn't smell anything. It was REALLY strong. Chuck seemed to agree with me, and came out of the bedroom sneezing.
Weird how it woke me up.
Another personal oddity with me is that my smell sensors in my brain seem to be completely dislocated from my language centers. I can recognise a smell, discuss a smell but invariably I cannot name it.
Oh, and check this out, it is a dictionary of regional American English and better still it provides a map of WHERE a phrase or saying is used. This is the COOLEST thing! Sadly they only look at the US but it is still pretty fascinating.
I am two thirds of the way through Marilyn Robinson's Housekeeping. I am so LOVING this book. Loving it. It seems like a book about landscape, and the characters are a thin translucent vehicle for the narrative of the landscape. She writes incredibly richly and wanders, no rambles through the landscape, exactly in the manner I would in life and how I think. It works perfectly. The storyline moves forward within a richly depicted natural world almost devoid of people, and those there are seem mightily inconsequential and small. The characters remain ephemeral, transient, indifferent and self-contained like barely visible hints of past lives which sounds negative when put boldly, but it makes for a delicately nuanced text that moves like a smooth deep quiet tannin stained river. Stunning, reflective and refractive providing glimpses of passing stories as you slip along with it.
Loving this book.
A fascinating book, and astonishing as a first novel.
And the ending is perfect.