A magical place

I remember, when I was about 7 or 8, my grand-mother still had her house. We would go and visit every weekend, and every other day during the summer.  In my mind, it was a magical house.

For one thing, she had a living room that was probably more like the classic drawing-room. It was a simple room, with couch and chairs, but without a TV. It had a fireplace -electric mind you- and an upright piano that had beautiful carvings. It was a Heintzman & Co with a beautiful sound and real ivory keys. As kids, we played Chopsticks endlessly on this beautiful instrument.

The property was surrounded on two sides by tall lilac trees. At the front of the house were two hydrangea trees that turned pink every fall. The backyard was invaded by fragrant lily-of-the-valley. Two large plum trees, one with small yellow plums and one with blackish blue plums grew over an old fashioned wooden swing for 4. Finally, there was a snowball tree. That name would sound magical to any kid. It was certainly much more intriguing that the correct Viburnum Opulus.

In her washroom, my grand-mother kept strange unknown objects. She had a square box in which she kept her teeth at night, strange cobalt glass jars of Noxzema cream, Pepsodent toothpaste, etc… She also had a milkglass bottle of Jergens lotion that looked like the bottle in I dream of Jeannie. The smell of this lotion was haunting.

 

That house was sold a few years later. My grand-mother moved in with us, in a newly built apartment on the second floor of our house.

Some of the lilac trees were transplanted to my parent’s house and are now starting to grow at my cottage. Since no-one in the family had room for the Heintzman & Co, my grand-mother had to pay $50 for some guys to come and take the piano to a scrapyard.

What brought all those memories back: Louve by Serge Lutens. Strangely, it smells just like that Jergens lotion that my grand-mother kept.

Memories never leave you.