Allons-y!

I received an email the other day from one of my friends in France. I hadn't heard from her for about 3 years or so, so it was pretty cool to catch up with her and hear all about what she's been doing and such. Since then I've had lots of little vignettes from my year in France pop into my mind and I've been feeling the itch of that travel bug. I keep thinking about those delicious pastries and open air markets and the sights and sounds and smells of European cities.

But of course traveling these days is a completely different story. Gone are the days of throwing my things into a backpack and heading out the door. Now we have pack and plays and portable high chairs and diaper supplies to worry about. Oh, and then there's that whole traveling with a baby thing. No thanks. So it's kind of hard not to miss those carefree days since now I'm in charge of another person's life (!!) and all.

But we are traveling a bit this weekend. Jack and I are headed up to Oregon City to see my aunt and then visit my grandma in Portland. It should be fun times, provided that Jack cooperates and does not destroy my grandma's delicate household balance of low lying vases and antique figurines. Ugh.

So I'm running all around and trying to get all our gear together, 'cause we sure need a lot of stuff for two whole nights away from home. I realized last night that I really needed to wash a load of diapers. We keep our diapers in the garage and so when the temperature climbs, the odor becomes more and more, shall we say, pungent.

You know how smells can instantly bring you back to an earlier time in your life? I remember one time a few years ago when I was shopping with an old friend and she handed my this candle saying, "Smell this. It smells exactly like your old house." And it did smell just like the house I grew up in, which was weird because it was labeled "cucumber" and I don't recall us keeping an abundance of cucumbers lying around. Anyway. It's crazy how smells trigger memories like that.

So I'm standing in the garage trying to decide my plan of attack on these smelly diapers, when suddenly I get this strong whiff and my mind starts reeling back to an earlier time. And I just can't quite put my finger on this memory, except that I know it's a positive one. So I sniff and sniff and sniff those stinky diapers wondering what the hell happy memories involve the scent of pee. And for a second I start to go all Freudian and think that maybe I'm reliving a moment from my infancy and blah blah blah.

But then it hits me. Those stinky pee diapers remind me of France. Specifically, the public transportation in France, like the metro station or the train with it's nasty little bathrooms where the toilets open directly onto the train tracks. Ah, memories. Vive la France.