…so, I’m not really into beige…off white…cream…or even ivory - I mean, they have their place, but I just love color…a lot!

So, today we spent all morning painting our old house “informal ivory”…the WHOLE THING! We painted over my blue/green bedroom, my eggplant purple study, my teal dining room, my “harvest wheat” foyer, and even my soothing green family room…all of it - now, off white.

I understand the psychology. Not everyone is cool with purple, teal, green, orange and blue…just to name a few. The rooms look bigger all a uniform color…blah, blah, blah…

But, I was thinking (as I was hiding from the random strangers pilfering through our trash…glad I wouldn’t be around for the “estate sale” after my demise…) - anyway, I was thinking about how that off white paint was covering over the evidence of…me, of my family’s presence in this house we called “home” - How with each layer of spackle and each stroke of the paint brush, we were disappearing…

I remembered how I was so excited when we purchased our first house and could paint it whatever color…or colors - that popped into my head…

But, it makes it easier to leave a place behind when you no longer see it as “yours”….when your colors are removed and anonymity takes over…when it could be filled with anyone’s things…anyone’s dreams…anyone’s family.

It’s easier when it’s off white…at least for me - easier to close the door and walk away.

So, I guess I’m grateful for the “off white” paint of life…the brush strokes that seem to wash over the difficult parts of a journey…make it easier to move on.

Besides, there’s always new rooms to live in - like a turquoise office with a ruby red fainting couch…or “steel gray” kitchen with lots of red accents…or whatever color pops into my head next.

There’s always something else to make more colorful - something that used to be “off white” and now is ready for a change…

There’s a metaphor, or three, in there somewhere. And it’s all good.

Peace.

Well, it is a Happy Tuesday - for this reason:

Both of my parents celebrate their birthdays on this day (different years, but same day)…that’s right, both of them. This worked to my Dad’s advantage when he needed an excuse to ask my mom out - going to get ice cream to celebrate their mutual birthdays was just the ticket!
My Dad was the Youth Pastor at my Mom’s church and she was the Homecoming Queen/Cheerleading Captain…then Cheerleader at the local University as well…(I went to Homecoming….).

They married two years later. Then came five kids.

This summer they will celebrate 40 years of marital bliss …

So, needless to say (but I will anyway), I’m so happy that they were born…and also that they were born on the same day.

Happy Birthday to you, Mom and Dad! I hope you have the best year ever…you deserve it!

I love you both - (Mom, you still look like the Homecoming Queen…in fact, if one more person asks if you’re my sister…. )

Peace.