|this is a ccc-- complimentary coffee capture. for Jess, being the addict she is. ;)|
I'm typing to the strong smell of shoe polish, an aroma I love. It's pungent and old-fashioned, strong as the man who pulls the brush back and forth along the tops of his Sunday shoes. For me, it is the smell of childhood. It reminds me of Saturday nights, my favourite time of the week. The house is lit from top to bottom. The smell of an early supper mingles with the snappy aroma of shoe polish as Daddy spruces up his Sunday shoes, and the crisp freshness of starch mingles with it all. Mama's iron glides along my favourite dress and Christopher's pants, steaming and hissing and creasing sharply. One by one, the family disappears into the bathroom and emerges magically clean. I smell of soap as run down the stairs, the carpet burning the bottoms of my feet as my dripping hair leaves puddles in the foyer. Our front door stands open to release all these smells and let in the twilight, but I wish now that I could have caught them in a jar, to open whenever I wanted to go back to Saturday night.
p.s. a hip, hip, and hoorah for m'darling Jess, cause she's got a lovely accent and is minty biscuits and all that. Even though she went to NZ without me. Yeah. There is that.
p.p.s. Happy Thanksgiving, dears.
Bonjour! I'm AnnaKate. I collect old books, write in the margins, imagine I live in Europe, and dance while I cook. Even though I'm terribly flawed, Christ has redeemed me and I love Him more than anything. This is the story of the beautiful life He's given me.