You have to believe me when I tell you that, although one always has things happen which remind one of the past, these flashes of memory increase with age - and what is more they become more poignant. This was brought home to me by reading my son's post (made out of words on my sidebar). His poem speaks of how hearing
Tubular Bells reminds him of the past. I am sure such things happen to you; they happen to us all.
Sitting over my coffee after lunch I mulled the idea over in my mind. Tubular Bells (I haven't heard the sounds since my son left home to go to University in 1973) but the very mention of the word reminded me how he would latch on to a favourite piece of music and, for a while, it would consume his every waking moment (he did read music at Uni and does work in music now).
Now that I am severely deaf music, sadly, plays little part in my life. But there are so many other memories that drop into my mind at the tiniest reminder. Here are a few which spring to mind:
A mention of violets on a comment on my post yesterday immediately transported me back to a railway embankment just outside the village where I grew up in Lincolnshire. It was the main line to the North - we often used to go there in case we saw The Flying Scotsman (sometimes we did - it was all steam in those days) - and in early Spring the banks were covered with violets (the smell was divine).
Salads with lettuce as a base - I am not all that keen on lettuce, it always seems a bit nondescript-
I have only to look at the lettuce and I can recall my school friend Janet (we are still in contact now). She was an only child and I was ostensibly as my brother and sister had by this time left home and her parents used to like me to go to tea as often as I liked so that we could play together. I loved to go because she had the best toy farm I have ever seen -not seen a better one since - and I loved to play with it. So we would eat our tea quickly and then out would come the farm on the table. Always for tea we had lettuce sandwiches (her Dad was a keen gardener and grew an abundance of lettuce). I would eat them, and enjoy them although at home I didn't like lettuce.
Now - see lettuce on the table and it doesn't take much to transport me back to setting up the barns and the fences and then bringing out the cows and horses to put in the fields.
I could go on - as I am sure you all could - but I don't wish to bore you. But I'd love to hear of a few things which dredge up your memories.