Something kinda weird about me - purple makes me happy. It really does. I was sitting in the car, honking for the last stragglers to load up so we could go to a church meeting. Normally, this is a time when I get very irritable. I hate being late and I hate waiting. But when I looked up and saw my pretty purple clematis climbing up the stair rail, I had a wave of happy feeling come over me that overrode the irritation.
I think maybe I started out liking purple when I was seven years old in order to imitate my step-mom. But it never went away. Now I involuntarily notice purple everywhere. My eye just draws to it. I don't think anyone really knows how much I love it. Almost every room in my house has something purple. The living room is tan, green and purple, the dining area and kitchen is painted solid purple, my dishes have purple irises on them, the upstairs bathroom is lavender, my bedroom is deep purple and white.
Once when Candace was searching for a birthday present for me at a flea market, a sales clerk asked her if I collected anything. Candace replied, "Errr, purple. Anything purple."
Purple was very "in" a short time I ago and I was in my element. Purple things were available everywhere. I was tempted to stockpile everything purple. Now the fad is fading and other colors are replacing my own favorite.
Thankfully, I have found an answer to being able to surround myself in purple despite retailer's fickle tastes. Purple flowers are my latest love - hydrangeas, hostas, larkspur, balloon flowers, irises. If it's purple, I like it. They make me feel like I'm in purple heaven. Even my potatoes are blooming purple. Ahhh.