Something in the air

The school I attended when small was run in a large old mansion whose every corner is inventoried in memory. The converted parlors and breezeways, the family style dining tables were all refreshed to mind this morning as I stood in my parking lot and smelled a beef stew being prepared by the grocery on the avenue. They are having a cookathon, it seems. I'm smelling all the old, country recipes. Next thing you know, I will need larger pants.