The smell of my childhood

I think I was kind of lucky, I had a lot from life.
I do not mean money or power, I mean I had a lot to be happy about.
I had a wonderful family, I had a lot of love, probably more than what I deserved, because sometimes I even took it for granted.
I had a great grandfather and every year, in June, when I smell the lime tree I suddenly have a glimpse of those Summer nights we spent under a huge tree in my grandparents house in the country.
It was the family house, my great great great someone house.
It was still very much as it used to be many years before.
At that time remodeling was a luxury just kings and a little less could afford.
The others were lucky to have a house and furniture to care for.
And they cared for a lot.
The entrance was always dark, because my grandmother used to close all windows and spray that poisonous DDT which probably was not that poisonous since they lived till 85 and all the other relatives quite long too...
It used to have a special smell, which I didn’t dislike.
The floor was a cotto floor, always waxed and shining and nicely smelling too.
And then there was the cellar which had a special smell too.
A mixture of mold and wine.
My grandfather, as most Italians, was fond of wine.
The good strong red wine.
Barbera, Barolo, Barbaresco, and the everyday Dolcetto.
"Water makes rust, wine never."
"The French wines are just good to make vinegar, nothing can beat a good strong piemontese wine."
"I will never be poisoned by water or French wine..."
And then there was the smell of fresh strawberries or peaches or flowers.
My childhood was a mixture of nice, good lovely smells, the smells of love I will never forget.