So this is the day. Sunday. The slowest, most mindful day of the week. Coffee dates, leisurely breakfasts, early morning knitting and puttering around the house. It tried to snow today, so it's a great day for slipper wearing, receipt sorting and light dusting. I'm steadily crossing such things off the list in my head, working at a Sunday pace while I wait for layers of pieces to dry to continue work on them.
In my wandering and thinking, I've noticed that my favorite color seems to have changed again. This happens quite often with me. Sometimes I notice it right away and sometimes it sneaks up on me, like a dog looking for some petting. It's a thematic color change. It makes me laugh because my friend Steve says he looks for a theme in how we baristas at the cafe dress. Quite often there is one, albeit completely accidental. Sometimes we all wear plaid shirts, or colored pants, or the same color of pants, or the reverse color scheme of shirt-to-pants to one another. It's really not planned, and we joke among ourselves like; 'oh good! I see you got the grey cardigan memo.' or the 'ochre skinny jeans memo'.
64 days until my trip to the east coast and I seem to be craving the color of sea on a cloudy day. It's crept into my clothing, my jewellery, my painting and even my knitting. There are far worse, more annoying colors to live with, that's for sure.