but as my eyes adjusted , my childhood surroundings filled them : the always meticulously clean tile floor ; the deeply set windows , shuttered now to keep out the sun ; the smell of her many spices on their little shelves by the stove , always in the same sequence , from hottest to mildest , left to right , unlabeled in their glass jars , known only by their color and texture , and , of course , by their smell and taste .