This post is about green. Specifically, the color green. Not money, jealousy, Irish ancestry, government issued cards, or spinach.
It has nothing to do with:
* the heart chakra,
* emeralds or jade,
* Celtic myths,
* looking nauseous,
* ghost slime,
* the former flag of Libya,
* stop lights,
* greener pastures,
* or unripe tomatoes.
This is about the color itself, not the meanings or associations we attach to it.
Green is a beautiful color. Green makes me happy. I’m thankful for green.
I once read that the purpose of good-luck pieces, amulets, or talisman’s wasn’t to cast spells on others, so much as it was to have a physical object that helped you to change your own perception from the negative to the positive. Sort of like having a worry stone in your pocket, that you could rub to help calm you.
The main advice of the article was to use physical props to help you deal with stress. Find that physical thing which helped you, and set it on your desk at work, hang it in a prominent place on your wall, or carry it with you.
As you can guess, with me it’s the color green. I have no idea why, but just seeing green brings me joy in a way that no other color does. And yeah, I’m a gardener, but it’s not a plant thing, it’s something about the color itself. So sometimes I put a little something green (fabric swatch, ribbon, jelly bean?) in my pocket, so that when I’m feeling stressed I can pull it out and look at it.
I don’t think the green object has magical powers. (Unless my blood sugar drops. Then that jelly bean can “magically” take away my hunger!) Perhaps mystics might say that on some level my body resonates with green’s wavelength or frequency. Or maybe other people feel this way about their favorite color too, but they just don’t talk about it. I have no idea. I just know that green makes me feel good.
This is why I wore a Kelly green wedding dress and had a bright green wedding ring.
It’s why the carpet throughout my home is “seafoam”. Why the wallpaper is “sage”, the lamps are “avocado”, and the bath towels are “forest” green.
I have to fight through the green jungle of huge houseplants that fill my office, and if you open my drawers you will find a multitude of green clothes. (Sadly, I don’t look that good in green, so I end up wearing the blues more often.)
My family knows this “green obsession” about me too. For my birthday this year, my sisters spent weeks looking at green jewelry.
“Do you think she’ll like the green tourmaline or the green crystals better?” They shopped and agonized and tried on pair after pair. It came down to two pairs of earrings – one pair was teardrop shaped and forest green – the other pair of semi-precious peridot, a lighter shade of green. They showed me both pair but said I could only chose one. The whole family had bets on which green I’d choose.
So today, when I put on my forest green Swarovski crystal earrings (it was no contest really, they were the “greener” of the two), I decided that November 26th, 2014 should be declared the first annual Green Appreciation Day. After all, if a clothes store can generate profits by declaring a day every year for families to buy and wear the same colored pajamas (not saying who, you can Google it), then I see no reason I can’t have a Green Appreciation Day.
Maybe it’ll catch on. Hey, the throwing an orange down the street on New Year’s eve did (another story for another time).
By the way, the earth is approximately 71% water and then there’s that immense blue sky over all. So I think it’s safe to say that God likes blue.
But he gave us the land to live on. And it’s predominantly green. If he wanted us to be blue lovers he’d have given us fins. So it’s very, very possible (don’t burst my bubble here) that God’s favorite color is green!
Happy Green Appreciation Day everyone.
Hubby and I just celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary together. We celebrated by painting the kitchen window and front door (one of those shades of white).
As of this post, it’s already been two days since our anniversary, which means I can no longer remember whether we even went out to dinner or anything. We may have had Taco Bell.
Friends and family wished us a happy anniversary on FB, and we were tagged in one of our wedding photos which showed up online. (That’s me in my Kelly green wedding dress.)
All in all, it was more fanfare than I usually think to give to our anniversary.
It’s not that I’m not happy with Hubby. I am. Very. I think we have true love.
People tell me I’m lucky to have a husband like him and I think they’re right. He is, after all: handsome, friendly, kind, forgiving, and lenient. That may seem like a strange list of attributes for the perfect husband, but personally I think that’s the right kind of man to have. (If you had to live with me you’d probably tack on a few more of those “lenient”.)
And then there are those poppy-blue colored eyes….. sigh. But when it comes to romance, we are complete opposites.
I can only take so much of all that mush. Hubby, on the other hand, is over the top.
I’m glad I have a husband who remembers every anniversary, birthday, first date, etc. I’ve heard plenty of stories from women who would give anything to have a man who brings them flowers regularly, wants to hold their hand wherever they go, tells them they’re beautiful when they’re wearing paint splattered clothes or haven’t brushed their teeth yet. (Hubby does all of those things.) But a little goes a long way for me.
I try to think more romantically for him. It ain’t easy.
Like, once, we were in the bookstore and I saw him reading a book about putting more romance in your life (as if!). A few days later I was drinking an iced tea when something caught in my throat. I started choking, and up came a little piece of paper.
“What the hell is this?” I said.
“Read it,” he replied.
So I did. I don’t remember what it said, but the gist was that Hubby had frozen little love notes in the ice cube tray. Something he’d read in that fool book. He had that tender look of love in his eyes and expectant smile on his lips. I think I was supposed to tell him how romantic that was. Instead I belted out – “You could’ve killed me!” – then spent the next half hour apologizing and trying to sooth his hurt feelings.
There was the Easter season that Hubby hid a dozen long-stemmed carnations for me to find. Instead of an Easter egg hunt, it was a flower hunt. (Okay. I have to confess. I kind of liked that one.) Still, I would’ve been just as happy with one green egg.
Luckily, I have to say, that after 22 years he’s gotten used to me. So on our anniversary I was getting the supplies together for us to paint. I was annoyed because he was procrastinating, wanting to spend a few minutes time going down memory lane and talking about our wedding.
“You know,” he said. “I’m so glad we got married. I’m totally happy with you.”
“Well, whoop-de-do,” I replied. “Let’s get this window done.”
He laughed and we got down to work. Later, when we were sitting at the table surveying our handiwork, my earlier response seemed funny to me too and I thought about writing this post.
I knew Hubby never signed on to our computer. I don’t think he knows how. He doesn’t read my blog. He doesn’t have a FB account. He doesn’t text. Computers aren’t really a big part of his life. As far as his days are concerned, what happens online isn’t part of the real world.
Still, our family and friends ARE online. They can see what I write about him. I wondered if I was being fair to him, or doing something he’d rather I didn’t do. If that was the case, I’d respect his wishes. So I asked him.
“Now that I write that blog I find I put a lot of our conversations into my posts,” I said. “You’ve become one of my favorite subject matters.”
“Uh-huh.” He stood to go into the other room.
“How do you feel about that?” I asked.
“Whoop-de-do,” he answered, as he disappeared from view.
Ah… true love.