Minute memory: fresh cut grass

The smell of freshly cut grass always makes me think of my dad.

At our home in Nokesville, my childhood bedroom was on the right corner of our house, pretty much directly above the garage. While growing up, I was going to school everyday and then to gymnastics practice for four hours a night, four times a week. Between school, Saturday morning practice, and church on Sunday morning, I literally never got to sleep in. So, when summer came around, I was more than excited to take advantage of the three mornings a week where I didn’t have to be at the gym by 9am.

I can’t remember a time in my life where I woke up earlier than my parents. My dad was usually out the door at 4am to drive to work, and my mom typically woke up with him to make lunches and coffee.

On summer days that my dad didn’t go into work super early, he was still up at the crack of dawn, because he was accustomed to it. He would drink his coffee, flip on the news, and then head out to the yard to take advantage of the cool morning hours.

Cue the lawn mower. I even found a picture of it!! (thanks to my dad being super into Facebook for a while). I was used to being woken up by cars starting below my window--both of my parents drove diesel Ford Excursions at the time. But what really pissed me off was the damn lawn mower being started, on a summer Saturday, at 7am.

 The culprit.

The culprit.

My dad would go out and mow our yard, a task that took a few hours, and required the mower to be humming outside my window for a long time. He would come back inside covered in grass and sweat, and hop into the shower right away. I would get so mad about the noise, and make a point of saying something about it. Obviously, he’d laugh and not care, and ask if I wanted to mow instead? And of course, I was a smart alec and probably said yes.

Now, I miss that sound. I love the days that Patrick is out mowing our lawn; it’s music to my ears. It’s even better when I step outside and get to smell the fresh cut blades moving softly in the wind.

I had kind of forgotten about the smell of grass this winter. Then, I was in Monaco in March, and we passed in front of this super swanky hotel with a beautifully manicured lawn. And I smelled it. And it reminded me of my silly anger, my dad’s love for keeping our yard pretty, planting flowers, decorating for Halloween, and all the things. I smelled it again back in Lille while I was out for a jog, and I instantly smiled.

I’m looking forward to a summer full of fresh grass smells, sounds, and memories flooding back to me.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first of many minute mems! xx Erinn