Week 5- Post 6

One spot that brings back of rush of sensory details is my Grandma's livingroom and kitchen at her old house. The livingroom had a patio door that let large amounts of sunlight in, but made it scary to look out of at night. When I was little I was convinced that one night I would look out the door's windows and see a monster or something standing on the other side. Her living room also had the scent of cigarette smoke. On the table beside the couch their was always a lit cigarette, and for some reason I was fascinated watching it burn down. I remember sitting at the kitchen table in the room right next door hearing the sounds of my grandma nagging my grandpa about teaching me how to play poker. He is my main memory of that house. After he died I remember walking into the house always hoping that I'd see him sitting at the table with a deck of cards playing solitaire. I was only six years old at the time, but these certain details stick with me even today. Anytime I smell cigarette smoke, or hear a voice that sounds like my Grandpa's, or play solitaire I think of my Grandma and Grandpa's livingroom and dining.