Day 281: Lavender. It is one of the world's most easily recognizable scents, and who does not love it? It is a fragrance I associate fondly with my grandmother, and particularly with her button box, a container of treasures which was entrusted to my small hands only on special visits. When the lid was removed, the box exuded a dusty, musty lavender scent as old as the dresses which had long since had their buttons removed and stored safely away for future use.
In those days, buttons were made of bone and wood and shell, porous materials which absorbed the scent my grandmother and great-grandmother had dabbed on their pulse points, the better to release the fragrance. Even above lily-of-the-valley and crushed roses, lavender won the war of perfumes.
The aisles of Memory are lined with lavender-scented images in my mind, days of playing with buttons, bright toys no child of today's world would give a second thought.
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