A Marcel moment

Not so much a remem- brance of things past as a fast track right there: I walk through the kitchen maybe two dozen times a day, but this time sense and memory made a direct connection. Whiff, WHAM: Peonies -- and a specific "shade" of scent -- took me back to my grandma's house.

I closed my eyes and I was in the living room, cool in the dark of green velvet drapes, and there were the craftsman desk and the bowl of blossoms on my left, the piano on the right.

I swear, she was just around the corner, past the staircase on the left, through that swinging door, past the basement steps, in the big, sunny kitchen, making jam.