So, I've got this color problem going on, and I blame my mother. Buried in the cedar chest where I could never touch it again was a vest and legwarmers that my mother made. I remember them as made for me, but I don't remember wearing them -- and my sister was firstborn, so they might have been hers. The vest was a hot acidy coral color. A fiery pink (like the kind that the ill-advised put on red haired children) mixed with coral. Being a pale person, this is a color I should probably shy from, but it sucks me toward it always. The brightness! It burns with that light that hot pink impatiens have. If I stare at the flower shining in the heat I see the hotness of the color so far until it starts to recede into cold darkness. It's the jewel-tone with the heart of goth. Tallying up the items I have collected in the last year that share this hue: my toenails are coral and needed touching up (for a week). Well, the carpet is now one of the group because I knocked the bottle over. It's an old shabby carpet that should have been replaced 8 years ago, so I'm not worried, but it didn't need to match anything. I did get it to "hardly visible from across the room" which also helped with my "too much polish remover" problem.
I have of course bought yarn in this color, but I have fallen off and started buying clothes in this color. It has a pleasantly twisted relationship with grays.
Time for yoga. I got up at 5:45 on a Saturday. Sick, no?
