Which senses can you recall when you think of the family home from your childhood?

The smell of the pine trees with the wind blowing through them, and the coo-coo of the doves. I am lucky enough to smell and hear the same thing at the house I now live in, and it is very comfortable. I also think of home every time I fix popcorn. Mom used to cook it in a pan over the fire in our fireplace, and serve it with freshly squeezed orange juice, or cider.

One would definitely be the smell and the sound of my father making popcorn. It was his favorite, actually pretty much his only, snack and he made it almost every night.

The smell of Sunday dinner being cooked, be it beef, pork, chicken or lamb & the Yorkshires going in…The taste of angel delight & those trifles we used to have for Sunday tea……
The sight of my Mother hanging out endless lines of our washing, thankfully she no longer has to do….
As for touch, the palm of my mothers hand rattling my arse for being naughty :-/

Sight: The whole family sitting in front of the TV on Friday night eating roasted peanuts;

Hearing: Pops coming home from work and knowing it was time to sit down to dinner;

Touch: Being beat up pushed around by my brothers;

Smell: Sunday dinner.

Lying in bed, listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees outside of my second story bedroom.

When I catch the clean scent of wet Aspen tree bark, I’m instantly 4-years-old again watching the rain from my bedroom window.

Sometimes I think that I would like to watch it burn.

Sight of the lovely Trillium flower growing by the edge of the creek
Hearing of the Whip-poor-whill bird
Touch of my mother’s heavy home made quilts
Taste of her homemade taffy
Smell of our house like fresh laundry

The sight of yellow laburnum blossoms on the tree outside my bedroom window.
The sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway at night
The smell of fresh sawdust as my father worked in his shed
The taste of mum’s cottage pie
The feel of the sheepskin rug on my bedroom floor.

Wow. Thankyou for this, some of these memories are very old things that I haven’t thought about in decades.

Cool Linoleum under my hands and knees as I crawled on the floor. Damp green grass under my bare feet.
Crickets at night or the sound of my mom’s voice waking me for school while it was still dark outside.
My sister practicing her clarinet. My other sister practicing the piano.
The smell of crude oil on my dads clothes when he came home from the refinery.
The taste of bacon and eggs on Sunday morning and Shortbread at Christmas.
The cold snow on my tongue as I always had to taste it.

The smell of lilac in bloom, the creak of a gate, the taste of an egg roll, the touch of the bedspread at night and my mother’s face.

I live here. Not much has changed.

Oh, I forgot the smell of Old Spice when Daddy gave me my bedtime hug.

Rain on the windows tap tapping away. The smell of freshly cut wood (mahogany, oak, cherry wood); my dad was a furniture maker. Being able to walk through the walls (they never got around to gyp-rocking the house). The sounds of fighting (with six kids there was always someone fighting).

The train whistle in the distance at night.
Snow drifts up over the windows of the house.
The yellow Formica kitchen table with chrome legs,
My mom pretty with dark hair and no wrinkles wearing saddle shoes.
My dad tall and slim with a crew cut and cigarettes rolled in the sleeve of his tee-shirt.
The test pattern on the tv when I would wake up early on Saturday and no stations were on yet. I had to wait for my cartoons.

Pink fuzzy slippers.

The sound and feel of my rake as I raked the shag carpet in the living room! And the sight of feet prints all through my work as soon as I was done!

Cheers folks, I sense some happy memories…..which is nice!

Coming home to the smell of my mom baking something grand (usually bread).
Feeling the cool grass while with my brother watching shapes in the clouds together.

The faint smell of cow manure at my grandfather’s ranch.

The pricky feel of the wool carpet.

The smell of lilly of the valley, and of lilacs.

Tulip flowers sticking out of a snowdrift.

The smell of hot wax (hot waxing my skiis)

Sight – watching the flames in the fire while I listened to the Radio 3 play with my Nana.
Sound – the sound of trains going passed our house on the rail lines behind our garden.
Smell – the smell of stew when I got home and my dad had cooked a pot for dinner.
Touch – the feel of my dad’s hand stroking my hair while I watched TV snuggled up to him.
Taste – my dad’s potato cakes on a Sunday evening.

@Bellatrix Man…I never had nothin’ like that, but I’ll be imagining it from now on! How wonderful!

The sensation of touching and sitting on our old wooden porch in the back. I spent a lot of time there as a child with my dogs and cats.

I just remembered one from when I was little, living in Seattle. In the basement was a small bathroom. I think it had a swinging door. It was painted a ghastly blue green color. To this day I HATE that color. Not sure if there is some odd association there, but anyway, there it is!

Also, in Seattle, I was about 5 and I came downstairs after I was supposed to be in bed. I passed this picture of a wharf that my dad had painted…and there was a little boy in a sailor suit in the picture…my dad didn’t PUT a boy or any people in the picture! He was just there, smiling at me! I did what I was done on TV…I shook my head, then rubbed my eyes….and he was still there. So I went to get Mom and Dad to show them…and he was gone.

Another time, same house, my folks closet was connected to mine. I could just go through it into their room. Well…I woke up and there were some ghostly transparent people—a family—stanging in my door way. A mom, a dad, a big sister and a little boy. They weren’t threatening…they were smiling, but I freaked out. I tried to go through the closet to my folk’s room but…it was cluttered. I went back to bed and yelled for my mom. She came and stood in front of the door and made me walk “through” them…I did… I looked back and I could see them from behind. I could see through them.

To this day both of those things are sooooo real.

Lungworts. XD

@lucillelucillelucille Hahaha!
I thought my 3 linked questions were quite creative & original yet here we are 9yrs ago lol

@ucme -It came up on the side.I couldn’t resist.
There’s nothing wrong with asking again,so there! :)

@lucillelucillelucille Especially when I clean forgot this one.
It genuinely freaks me out when you resurrect these dinosaurs from a bygone age…please stop :D

@ucme -Just can’t stop me

I can’t concentrate on only one home. By the time I was 19 I had lived in 52 houses (I think.)

How is that even possible @Coolhandluke?

Well, my mom and dad divorced when I was a toddler. They both were either never happy with where they lived or who they lived with and kept moving. I wish I had a normal childhood with that “one” street and that “one” tree in the backyard, etc.