nutmeg memories

I just can't help it. Every time I smell nutmeg, I think of porridge and immediately think of my father. I always go right back to being seven years old and eating a breakfast worth waiting for. Man, that I could cook like he does. I don't even think I have the passion for it. And he, well, he doesn't get the forum for it which is sad like "Good Will Hunting"-squandered-talent sad.