Chips.

Not the good, salty kind.

Paint chips.

It’s all about the yellow.

Mellow yellow.

Golden yellow.

Meringue, which I always thought of as white.

Um, no.

Yellow.

At least in the world of paint chips.

The entire cave-like, vampire-ish first floor of the casa is being painted yellow and white, as soon as I can decide on the variations on yellow.

Sounds like a symphony.

A symphony of yellow.

I’m excited. In a color-induced, stressed-out, yellow coma kinda way.

It’s taken me all summer spring and summer to settle on the big Y.

It was the fretting.

Fretting sucks that paint chip decision into a vortex.

I had to look up, up, up to get this shot of yellow goodness.

You know you want to click it bigger.

And Monday floats in on cloud of Meringue.

No, wait. Honey Infusion.

No, no, no. Make that September Morning.

Pulls hair and exits left.

Elen