My friend recently wrote a nice post about how much she loves the color red. I love it, too. Always have. But I must admit that, as I’ve become older, I’ve developed a passion for a more intense color. Orange. Could anything be more beautiful than a late summer sunset?
Actually, I love all bright colors: Red, orange, yellow, fuchsia, emerald green, royal blue, or any version of those. I think I must have inherited my love of color. My paternal grandmother lived to be 92 years of age and never stopped wearing bright colors. No sky blues, mint greens, baby pinks or dull beiges for this lady; she wanted vibrant color! And so do I.
My grandmother also had a fondness for polka dots. Once when I was shopping with her only daughter, my aunt, I was admiring a jacket that I’d pulled off the rack. It was red with white polka dots. I loved it! When my aunt started laughing, I was surprised and asked why. She answered: “Liza Jane will never die as long as you live! You’re just like her.”
I guess, in some ways, I am. I consider that a compliment. She was a colorful character—and I don’t mean just because of the clothes she wore.
One of these dark, rainy, depressing days, when evening skies are gray instead of vivid orange, I’ll tell you all about Liza Jane’s colorful personality. The story is guaranteed to chase the blues away!