Colour is a Cruel Weapon.

Everyone who knows me knows my house is full of cremes and pinks and whites and lace and flowers and beautiful Victorian touches. Someone long ago started to buy me angels and my house is full of them. I am the queen of "pretty."
I have girlfriends who laugh that they only way they know what to buy me is to pick out something they themselves will hate. I do the same for them because they like earth tones, plain, clean lines etc. Still we manage to buy each other decent gifts.

When I first got married I soon learned my husband had 3 sisters and a mother who basically all shared the same taste - browns, dark woods, sensible and sturdy, functional furniture. While each had their own signature embellishments on the theme, their homes were browns and neutrals. Brown was the accent colour.
So I was confused when Christmas came and it seemed each sister bought, or made, the other sisters, sister in law, and mother, the exact same thing. We would open them one after the other. First one of theirs would be a soft blue macraméd hanging table. Then a pink one. A soft butter yellow . . . all with little beads and butterflies and flowers woven in. I could not wait to open mine. It was a plain brown one with a wooden table instead of glass.
Sets of dishes .. . pretty little pink and blue flowers, pink and yellow song birds, pastel butterflies . . . and an off white with a brown ring ... mine of course.
I felt like Charlie Brown.
Year after year it was the same. I got everything brown even though I am the least likely brown person you have ever met. No-one would ever buy me brown anything. Not even the worst boyfriend ever. I had nowhere to put or use half the stuff they gave me because pink is not on the brown colour wheel. It was not just that what they gave me was brown, it was that the gift was always broken, or poorly done, or something. I tried to be warm and gracious but I must admit I had dreams of revenge. It is probably a good thing I was attending church regularly back then as constant reminding that "thou shalt not kill" was a good thing.
So life moves on, my husband passed away, and I remarried. I am now in beautiful Australia and living in a land of colour and vibrant beauty in my pink, and white, and creme house, with lace, and flowers, and angels. I watch the beautiful butterflies and birds moving through the trees outside my window and feel like I live in a magical wonderland that feeds my soul daily with heaping spoonfuls of beautiful. It was like a dream come true that one day when my husband called me to say that there were dozens of butterflies all over our outdoor room. I grabbed the camera and ran, thinking of the pictures of me surrounded in a sea of colour, running through the gardens, giggling like a child.
They were there, just as he said. A whole herd of butterflies that had stampeded into our outdoor room and parked themselves all over the walls and the windows. I mean what could be more enchanting right?
Why wasn't I snapping pictures and running through the garden in a gauzy pink dress with my hair streaming behind me, flowing from a beautiful crown of flowers?
I'll tell you why not.

I got brown butterflies. Huge BROWN butterflies.
Not funny GOD!!!
Who makes brown butterflies anyway? Isn't there a law against that kind of thing? There should be. Neither butterflies, nor I, should ever, ever, EVER do brown.
THIS is a NON BROWN zone!!!


SKIN: DeeTaleZSkin A.T.W. Jule as Hera Mixedtype
HAIR: CATWA HAIRMissFortune (A) EYES: Mayfly - Liquid Light Eyes (Rainshower Shadow) LASHES: Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes MAKE-UP: .:GloSSy:. Glam Combo
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