Baked Indian Pudding has nothing to do with memory, unless of course, it does, but the first stage is stirring cornmeal and water over a low flame for a long time.
Love this. Smells=Memories. Speaking of which you can get that original Noxzema Cream on Amazon for $4.48! I actually bought it awhile ago JUST for that sensory memory!!
When I went off to sleep away camp, as a kid, my mother always packed a jar of Nozema and a bar of Dial soap, neither of which I used at home. As an adult, I always keep a jar of Noxzema in my bathroom cabinet and a bar of Dial soap, along with my usual Dove soap, in the shower. Sometimes I take the jar out, wet my face and smear it with the Noxzema as I did as a kid, and I’m filled with warm memories of a little girl looking in a mirror at camp.
so it DOES still exist. I have to find me some. but oh my god, where will it take me? I can't wait. Thank you for your memories of it on your face, looking in the mirror.
Lovely memories, Abigail, such great writing❤️ my mother‘s favorite perfume was Joy and she was a joy to be around. My father‘s scent of old spice aftershave brings me back to watching him shave when I was five! Thanks for the memories!❤️🙏
Lovely piece, a literary respite to end this week. I love all the food details. I might be able to shed some light on the soldiers. I grew up in the UK where soft boiled eggs were served in an egg cup with the top sliced off alongside a helping of "soldiers" - toast that had been buttered and sliced into about 4-5 strips that we would use to dip into the yolk. It was called egg and soldiers, or dippy egg in our house. Did your grandmother have any ties to British culture perhaps?
Oh thank you, and yes, my aunt Babbie lived in England during the war, and they were always in touch.. That's where it must have come from. Thank you for solving the mystery.
I would have asked my mother about her childhood, her dreams, what she was like as a young girl. Her favorite movies and books. My grandmother used to fry pork chops in a skillet. I wish I'd asked questions of her mom, who died at age 96. Mother probably had Noxzema, but I would have been clueless about that. After she passed away, we found a note she'd written that said, "Should anything happen to me, I sometimes keep money beneath the ironing board cover."
Another great, inspiring post and a real tool to help this 83-year-old remember things from the past using smell. I need all the help I can get to jog my memory. Thanks again, Abby. I hope all is well with you; I dearly love your posts.
I don’t even need to smell it. I just need to hear the word Noxzema” and my nose scrunches up and I’m transported to the bed I shared with my older sister where every night I had to dab it on her pimply teenage back. Pee-yew!
I wish I could ask my paternal grandma to tell me more about our Cherokee heritage. Supposedly, she was half Cherokee. She never cut her knee length black hair!
I also wanted her to teach me how to make lye soap and quilt.
I think of her when I cook fresh peas. Grandma Oma grew her own veggies.
Bigmom. The best grandma name ever. I still make my grandmother‘s hamburgers in the same pan she did. They were terrible, and I make them exactly the same way she did when I need a little piece of her. Mothballs, the smell of mothballs brings me back to sitting in her closet, surrounded by Persian Lamb and Mouton, safe and warm with her shoes. The scent of onions and chicken cooking in the hallway of any apartment building takes me back to her Bronx apartment, and that inviting smell meaning I was close. My safe space. Nana Helen. To me, she was always a short, soft old lady, but doing research into our family tree. I find photos of her fashionable and chic, coming over on the boat from the old country. I never asked any questions. I wish I had.
Oh, I love that you make your grandmother's hamburgers in the same pan she used, even though they were terrible, that it takes you back to her. And that she was your safe space. Thank you, and thank you for reading about my Bigmom.
I don't have my old recipe, but go to The View From Great Island and ask for Baked Incian Pudding. It is so delicous! Let me know how it goes if you make it.
My grandmother. Mommy May was intimidating. Very . A woman to be respected. Simultaneously untouchable and withdrawn. Elegant. Tall . Erect . White haired. A widow. Mother of 4. One son. Eugene . Died . Navy pilot. 1951. The year of my birth. My mother adored her younger brother. Mommy May never a word. She was wealthy. Elitist . Apt in NYC. 2 homes Commercial St Provincetown . When I was little summered. She was amongst artists and painted with them down town . Lived to be 84. Leukemia. The nurses Hospital said her skin was magnificent. She said the sun was for peasants. I’d ask her why she never said I love you to my mother.
Noxzema and Pond’s Face cream sitting on my grandmother’s dressing table and a big powder puff. What a lovely memory, Abigail. Pedal pushers, rollers in your hair (scarf tied under your chin if running an errand), teased hair, Prell shampoo, Dial soap, girdles and stockings with garter belts and home hair permanents have just come to mind. Mercí for the memories.
And thank you for your memories, Bonnie. And for reading. I only wore a girdle once, took it off at a party and threw it away. FTS. I guess I was about sixteen. The hell with that.
Oh how smell instantly transports me too! When I want to visit 1994-1997 I will take out my bottle of Vanilla Fields perfume that I refuse to throw away. And with one whiff I'm 15 -18 again, depending on the mood I'm in.
If I had thought of it, I would have asked my grandma what it was like to have fallen in love in the 1930s.
What an evocative post. I didn't know either of my grandmothers when they were alive but I would ask both of them, who are you, what was your life like? I'm fascinated by people's stories, their motivation, and level of personal agency.
The product that evokes a visceral memory for me is Rid insect repellent that was used when camping. When I smell it I'm straight back in the Australian bush, outdoors at night when it was applied, along with the smell of canvas, wood fire smoke, and barbequed meat. 😊
Lucky you, camping in the Australian bush. oh damn, lucky you. Thank you for your memory, even if it was Rid. The canvas, woodfire smoke, and barbecued meat make up for it.
After my mum died, I wore her old red sweater for years. It had pockets and in the left pocket there was her hankie and the spell of Noxema lingered on that hankie for years. I would pull it out and breathe in deeply that scent and my mum was with me still. I wrote a piece on that with a picture of a red sweater and every time I wore any red sweater friends asked it that was my mum's though she was long dead. I am turning 80 this year and she died when I was 50 so that is a long ago memory. Thanks.
What wonderful memories, and what inspired them. Thank you. Your mother's red sweater, the noxzema scented handkerchief present in the pocket, the scent lasting and lasting. Thank you.
Loved noxema and loved peeling my skin off. What in the world? Just ran into a former student tonight at a fave spot. I know everyone that works there. Told them
I’ve known him since first grade. Now he has two children. That’s when you’re glad you were a teacher. Actually
I’ve always been glad I was a teacher. His four year old
Girl
Had her ballet dress on and told
Me she had had a contemporary recital. I told her if she ever needed an extra grandma I am very good at going to recitals. Love the circle
Of it all.
Love to you Abigail. The news is a f ing mess. Let’s look for some joy where we can find it. Xxx
The news is appalling, what to do? A demonstration tomorrow in Woodstock, I'll being my chair. But yes, we need the goodness around us, and to share it. Love the child.
It’s music for me. Early 1960’s songs can transport me back to the feelings I had in one moment of my life. Each song is a different emotional memory a feeling so strong it’s visionary. You have a way Abigail of capturing a life in those moments, those triggers and as you said, smells, sounds, all of them combined. It’s extraordinarily succinct.
Love this. Smells=Memories. Speaking of which you can get that original Noxzema Cream on Amazon for $4.48! I actually bought it awhile ago JUST for that sensory memory!!
OMG! But I'm boycotting Amazon. I will see who else might have it. Thank you! What memories did it give you?
When I went off to sleep away camp, as a kid, my mother always packed a jar of Nozema and a bar of Dial soap, neither of which I used at home. As an adult, I always keep a jar of Noxzema in my bathroom cabinet and a bar of Dial soap, along with my usual Dove soap, in the shower. Sometimes I take the jar out, wet my face and smear it with the Noxzema as I did as a kid, and I’m filled with warm memories of a little girl looking in a mirror at camp.
so it DOES still exist. I have to find me some. but oh my god, where will it take me? I can't wait. Thank you for your memories of it on your face, looking in the mirror.
CVS !! $6.89!
You are kidding. as soon as the snow goes away, I'm off. or maybe I can order me some. thank you.
If you can wait I'll bring you some and we can share Noxzema memories!!! LOL
Lovely memories, Abigail, such great writing❤️ my mother‘s favorite perfume was Joy and she was a joy to be around. My father‘s scent of old spice aftershave brings me back to watching him shave when I was five! Thanks for the memories!❤️🙏
and thank you for yours!.
Lovely piece, a literary respite to end this week. I love all the food details. I might be able to shed some light on the soldiers. I grew up in the UK where soft boiled eggs were served in an egg cup with the top sliced off alongside a helping of "soldiers" - toast that had been buttered and sliced into about 4-5 strips that we would use to dip into the yolk. It was called egg and soldiers, or dippy egg in our house. Did your grandmother have any ties to British culture perhaps?
Oh thank you, and yes, my aunt Babbie lived in England during the war, and they were always in touch.. That's where it must have come from. Thank you for solving the mystery.
I would have asked my mother about her childhood, her dreams, what she was like as a young girl. Her favorite movies and books. My grandmother used to fry pork chops in a skillet. I wish I'd asked questions of her mom, who died at age 96. Mother probably had Noxzema, but I would have been clueless about that. After she passed away, we found a note she'd written that said, "Should anything happen to me, I sometimes keep money beneath the ironing board cover."
Under the ironing board cover. I love that was the note your mother wrote.
That's where I hid my poems from my first husband. good place. No ironing boards anymore, too bad. Thank you, John, for reading.
Thank you Abigail. I think I worked that into a poem.
Another great, inspiring post and a real tool to help this 83-year-old remember things from the past using smell. I need all the help I can get to jog my memory. Thanks again, Abby. I hope all is well with you; I dearly love your posts.
Taaru, thank you very much. And yes, smells take you right back. It's really amazing.
I don’t even need to smell it. I just need to hear the word Noxzema” and my nose scrunches up and I’m transported to the bed I shared with my older sister where every night I had to dab it on her pimply teenage back. Pee-yew!
oh lord! Not a perfect memory, but very real. And you so young.
I wish I could ask my paternal grandma to tell me more about our Cherokee heritage. Supposedly, she was half Cherokee. She never cut her knee length black hair!
I also wanted her to teach me how to make lye soap and quilt.
I think of her when I cook fresh peas. Grandma Oma grew her own veggies.
How lucky are you with such a heritage. I'm jealous. Fresh pease. Lovely way to remember.
They definitely can't compare to canned peas!
Thanks.. I wish I had lived closer to my dad's side of the family I only saw my paternal grandma four times before she passed away.
Bigmom. The best grandma name ever. I still make my grandmother‘s hamburgers in the same pan she did. They were terrible, and I make them exactly the same way she did when I need a little piece of her. Mothballs, the smell of mothballs brings me back to sitting in her closet, surrounded by Persian Lamb and Mouton, safe and warm with her shoes. The scent of onions and chicken cooking in the hallway of any apartment building takes me back to her Bronx apartment, and that inviting smell meaning I was close. My safe space. Nana Helen. To me, she was always a short, soft old lady, but doing research into our family tree. I find photos of her fashionable and chic, coming over on the boat from the old country. I never asked any questions. I wish I had.
Oh, I love that you make your grandmother's hamburgers in the same pan she used, even though they were terrible, that it takes you back to her. And that she was your safe space. Thank you, and thank you for reading about my Bigmom.
so I want the recipe! for baked Indian pudding....
I don't have my old recipe, but go to The View From Great Island and ask for Baked Incian Pudding. It is so delicous! Let me know how it goes if you make it.
I don't have my old recipe, but go to The View From Great Island and put iin Baked Indian pudding, and you've got a good one. It is so delicious.
My grandmother. Mommy May was intimidating. Very . A woman to be respected. Simultaneously untouchable and withdrawn. Elegant. Tall . Erect . White haired. A widow. Mother of 4. One son. Eugene . Died . Navy pilot. 1951. The year of my birth. My mother adored her younger brother. Mommy May never a word. She was wealthy. Elitist . Apt in NYC. 2 homes Commercial St Provincetown . When I was little summered. She was amongst artists and painted with them down town . Lived to be 84. Leukemia. The nurses Hospital said her skin was magnificent. She said the sun was for peasants. I’d ask her why she never said I love you to my mother.
what memories you have. Hard ones. Tough woman with a good life.
When did you mother tell you that?
Noxzema and Pond’s Face cream sitting on my grandmother’s dressing table and a big powder puff. What a lovely memory, Abigail. Pedal pushers, rollers in your hair (scarf tied under your chin if running an errand), teased hair, Prell shampoo, Dial soap, girdles and stockings with garter belts and home hair permanents have just come to mind. Mercí for the memories.
And thank you for your memories, Bonnie. And for reading. I only wore a girdle once, took it off at a party and threw it away. FTS. I guess I was about sixteen. The hell with that.
Oh how smell instantly transports me too! When I want to visit 1994-1997 I will take out my bottle of Vanilla Fields perfume that I refuse to throw away. And with one whiff I'm 15 -18 again, depending on the mood I'm in.
If I had thought of it, I would have asked my grandma what it was like to have fallen in love in the 1930s.
Depending on your mood! Loved that. So many questions I wish we had asked.
Thank you for those memroies.
Oh I asked questions, but never got much of an answer. So sorry for that.
Maybe just as well. Sometimes answers are more problematic than questions. She must have known that.
What an evocative post. I didn't know either of my grandmothers when they were alive but I would ask both of them, who are you, what was your life like? I'm fascinated by people's stories, their motivation, and level of personal agency.
The product that evokes a visceral memory for me is Rid insect repellent that was used when camping. When I smell it I'm straight back in the Australian bush, outdoors at night when it was applied, along with the smell of canvas, wood fire smoke, and barbequed meat. 😊
Lucky you, camping in the Australian bush. oh damn, lucky you. Thank you for your memory, even if it was Rid. The canvas, woodfire smoke, and barbecued meat make up for it.
:) I like the smell of Rid.
You’ve inspired me to write about my grandmothers. It’s a comfort to read positive stories about family. Thank you.
Oh good. I will look for your stories about grandmothers. And thank you.
After my mum died, I wore her old red sweater for years. It had pockets and in the left pocket there was her hankie and the spell of Noxema lingered on that hankie for years. I would pull it out and breathe in deeply that scent and my mum was with me still. I wrote a piece on that with a picture of a red sweater and every time I wore any red sweater friends asked it that was my mum's though she was long dead. I am turning 80 this year and she died when I was 50 so that is a long ago memory. Thanks.
What wonderful memories, and what inspired them. Thank you. Your mother's red sweater, the noxzema scented handkerchief present in the pocket, the scent lasting and lasting. Thank you.
Loved noxema and loved peeling my skin off. What in the world? Just ran into a former student tonight at a fave spot. I know everyone that works there. Told them
I’ve known him since first grade. Now he has two children. That’s when you’re glad you were a teacher. Actually
I’ve always been glad I was a teacher. His four year old
Girl
Had her ballet dress on and told
Me she had had a contemporary recital. I told her if she ever needed an extra grandma I am very good at going to recitals. Love the circle
Of it all.
Love to you Abigail. The news is a f ing mess. Let’s look for some joy where we can find it. Xxx
The news is appalling, what to do? A demonstration tomorrow in Woodstock, I'll being my chair. But yes, we need the goodness around us, and to share it. Love the child.
It’s music for me. Early 1960’s songs can transport me back to the feelings I had in one moment of my life. Each song is a different emotional memory a feeling so strong it’s visionary. You have a way Abigail of capturing a life in those moments, those triggers and as you said, smells, sounds, all of them combined. It’s extraordinarily succinct.
me too. rock&roll. the old stuff. takes me where I want to be for a while. Whole evenings spent just watching and listening.