Smells of nature

It was an early morning, around 6:15 a.m., when I left for work this morning. It was sunny and it was fresh because it had rained at night. When I was walking in the street I live in I suddenly stopped because there was a smell. It was a smell I wanted to stop to smell for a moment.

Lilacs aren’t only beautiful flowers but their smell is enchanting. There are quite a few lilac bushes in the street I live in. When they bloom I can even smell the lilacs on the balcony of my apartment. But the smell is the strongest when I’m walking down there in the street.

To be honest, I have always been really bad at recognizing flowers, plants, and even birds. I guess I was half asleep in the biology classes in school. It may be my sight too. I’ve never really been able to pick berries of any kind because I can’t distinguish them well in the bushes or among the leaves on the ground. But also there, I enjoy the smells.

My grandma used to make juice out of blackcurrant leaves. She let the leaves soak in red-hot water, so that the aroma would come up. The smell was overpowering! Of course, the juice was delicious. But I would claim I enjoyed the smell of the juice cooking even more.

It’s very traditional that in the early summer (at the beginning of June up to Midsummer) Finns make birch switches. In the days, they come up the best because the birch leaves are fresh and young. So, the aroma is much better than stronger than at the latter part of the summer.

One way to use a birch switch is to wet it and set it on the sauna stove right before water is thrown on the stones. When the humid steam comes up it goes through the leaves and brings up strong aroma. It makes the sauna room and bit by bit also one’s skin smell like the leaves of birch smell. It’s another smell that I like a lot.

When I walk in the forest I don’t only enjoy the peace and quiet. I also enjoy the sounds and smells. In summertime when the maintenance man of the apartment house cuts the grass I always make sure the windows are open because I want the smell of the fresh-cut grass to come in. When I’m at the summer cottage I want to be the one who cuts the grass because in that way I can be surrounded by the smell for as long as the work has been done.

I often think that senses are pretty amazing. One of my senses is weaker. Long time ago, I read bumped into an examination saying that people with a weaker sense have more sensitivity in other senses. And I would claim that is true in my case especially when it comes to the smells and tastes. Just an example, I could say that when I took the cooking course in the Adult College of Helsinki my teacher was pleased for the fact how good I was at seasoning.

I have a bottle of lilac perfume. Once I found the type in a beauty shop I simply couldn’t help buying it, especially when the smell wasn’t artificial. But of course, it would never be the same as if you were out there in the forest smelling the smell of real lilacs.

Ten years ago – my Country Music Anniversary

It’s a bit after nine o’clock in the evening. Skype is running. The call with a very close American friend of mine is on. And on the webcam, I see the shocked look on his face.

I go back a few minutes to sum up what we’ve just talked about. It’s music.

“Do you know any country music?”

That’s what he’s just asked, as we have been chatting about music in general, and the question’s made me go thoughtful.

As an answer, I have slightly shaken my head and said, “Well, I know somehow Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash but… not really, not that I could say.”

He is not a fan of country music, as he says, but he’s still so shocked for my reply that he makes an effort and sends me a link of a song. He asks me to listen to it. He says it would give me a good impression of country music because the singer is good; his music is country, he has a good classic-type of country voice, and his shows always rock “in a country way”.

“Alrighty then,” I think and open the link, because I’m always open to give a try to anything new.

A song starts playing. I ask him to wait for a moment. Then I focus on listening.

The beat is interesting. I realize the music is not what I exactly expected.

And then comes the singing.

First I just listen to the music in general. But suddenly I pay attention to the fact that the singer sounds a bit different… it’s not the kind of English I’m used to hearing. But his voice is very pleasant. It’s enjoyable to listen to.

I look at the title of the clip more closely: Garth Brooks – The Night I Called The Old Man Out.

“So, this is country music,” I think and a smile passes on to my face.

“So?,” my friend asks when the song has ended.

But I don’t comment. Instead, as a language lover, I approach the thing from that aspect.

“I wonder… why does he drawl the words?”

My friend bursts into laughter. Then he says it’s part of the game in the south to do that.

I go a bit confused because I don’t understand his reaction and I’m confused what’s so funny that it’s making him laugh.

But we don’t get stuck to it, and the chat goes on.

Then years ago, my life came to a turn. I found country music. I fell in love with it. And ever since, it’s played a big role in my life.

But it’s not just country music. I find the culture and lifestyle they lead in the southern US fascinating; the southern and western stuff and everything from the accents to the attitudes.

When I learned the meaning of “to cowboy up” I realized it’s very close to the Finnish “sisu” meaning guts. In many country songs, it’s said that when you get thrown down (from the saddle) you’ve got to cowboy up. That’s exactly what my attitude in general is like.

Any type of country music is good, even if I have to honestly admit that I’m less fond of today’s country that is mostly pop or rock and the artists and their fans just call it country. But I have my top favorites. I call Garth Brooks my Country Music First Love because his music opened the door to the world of country music to me. The others belonging to the top group are Chris LeDoux, Lonestar, and Justin Moore.

Every time I hear country music anywhere or I listen to it I feel awesome! It’s a way to put a smile on my face. Even if I was feeling blue, if I heard some country it’d chase the blueness away.

So, I am celebrating today. But I’m celebrating alone because it’s more or less “my thing”. Country music is not popular or well known in Finland. Basically, people know Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, and Willie Nelson. But, for example, I’ve asked my friends if they know who George Strait and Alan Jackson are. They don’t.

I have two dreams I’ll go for when I have a chance. I’ve been in the US once, in Florida. I am going to have a vacation in one of the southern states; Texas most probably. And I am going to see a country music concert live; if it was Garth’s concert I’d be in heaven!

For dinner, I’m cooking Nashville Hot Chicken with white bread, pickle chips, and goat cheese dip. And needless to say, country music is playing in the background. That’s the name of the game on the 10^th Country Music Anniversary.

Related entry: Tipatius' Blog - The Five Meaningful Songs

"Right now, I’m here. In a bit, I’ll be gone."

Life is so unexpected. I dedicate this post to my mother who lost something really precious yesterday. Her dear cat, Charles, was put to sleep, being hardly five years old.

Charles was a cat with a personality. But which pet would not have one? He was quite obstinate and he sometimes showed up like he had disliked me. But after all, I was the “bad buddy” who always brushed his fur, cut his claws, wormed him, and did such things. So, of course he had learned that I was the one who deserved some hissing and showing claws.

Charles and my mother were like a mother and a child. They had their way together. They had their common traditions every morning, day, and evening, just like I have with my cats. Garfield and Kenneth are as dear to me as Charles was to mom. They are like my kids. They are just so dear and the paw marks of these little creatures will always remain in our hearts.

Things were still running normally on Friday morning. My mother and I have a nice tradition of going to the café close to where we live in some mornings before work. From there, we take the buses to work. When mom went home in the afternoon she discovered that Charles had not peed. And because he still hadn’t in Saturday morning she took him to see the vet.

It turned out that Charles had quite a bit of kidney stones. He was set to a 24-hour-long intensive care but mom was allowed to bring him home. Fortunately, we say now, as he got to spend his last moments at home.

Mom took him back to the vet yesterday morning to check the kidneys. The vet said they had injured so badly that it’d not be certain if they could be healed – ever. Mom told me after getting home that already on Saturday she had started getting mentally ready for the worst – to put the poor cat to sleep. And when she had told the vet yesterday that she was ready for it the vet had said that it’d probably be wise because no one could guarantee if the kidneys could be healed or if they would heal. And at least in that way the Charles wouldn’t suffer for any longer.

Of course, mom could have taken the chance to try if the possible care would have helped. But at the end of the day, it’d have been even worse if it hadn’t and then Charles had put to sleep after suffering and being in pain for a week or two. It simply wouldn’t have been humane. And it’d have been too hard for both of mom and C.

My mother and I had a nice way of calling our cats as “cousins”. Garfield and Kenneth were Charles’ cousins and vise versa. G and K are “bros”. Especially Kenneth and Charles were really good buddies. They were very fond of each other. I’m already feeling sorry for K probably looking for C when I next time take the cats to mom’s place. I have explained them that their fellow cousin is not there anymore. But one day they’ll see it in practice.

Losing a dear one is always so hard. But it’s part of life even if it feels cruel. Charles was too young to go. But at least he had a very good and happy life. No one could have given him a better home and life than my mother.