April 7, 2008 // by Lene Andersen
Updated March 11, 2021 My pharmacist is renovating and as part of the process, they’ve built floor-to-ceiling shelves made of pressed wood for their files. As I walked in the door, the smell of sawdust instantly transported me back to my childhood or, more specifically, the basement of the building where my mormor and morfar…
Category: Family
Tag: grandparents, memories, Proust, the power of scent
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