I grew up in a yellow house. I can remember when it was not yellow, when it was a late sixties green. But at some point in my early childhood, my dad painted it yellow. We lived in southwestern Arizona and most houses had a stucco exterior. Early on, my parents also painted our kitchen walls yellow and wallpapered with a cheery yellow check.
My great grandma Lena Mae Ketchum Slocter, whom I have named by baking business after, had a set of yellow and green dishes: Corn King pattern produced by Shawnee Pottery. I adored them as a kid and now have what is left. If my home was on fire, I’d most likely grab a few pieces and run.
It might seem odd to those not color focused (I have always been, if that makes sense), but I am trying to concentrate on yellow this month. Lemons. Sunshine. Sunflowers. Also joy. Daily joy even if it rains, literally or figuratively. In my mind, if joy was a color it would be yellow. I have taken some recent turns which have brought me to a new space. I have a good deal of peace and my heart is happy. But, and there is most always a but, I still have some anxieties. Financial fears. Getting older fears. Adjustments along the way. The normal stuff of life yet it is a challenge not to envy those on a seemingly sure path. Those who do not carry the sole responsibility of every life decision. Reminding myself I do not have to lean towards the melancholy is a daily task. I am slowly succeeding. Creating. Envisioning.
Upon a Sunny Day 