Finally, Spring

I don't dislike green per se. I am, after all, half-Irish. It's just that, of all the colors I think I like, there are more shades of green I find painful rather than pretty. Adding one such particular shade of green to the annoying forays into multiple typefaces, for example, made reading Stephanie's latest book not nearly the fun I expected it to be. It's the first one I haven't immediately re-read. This is not a reflection on Stephanie. Her prose is, as always, first rate. It's to demonstrate the depth of my feeling for (against?) certain shades of green.

Which probably explains why yesterday morning took my breath away. It was grey, cold and damp. And beautiful? How could that be?

What a difference between a cold, grey, damp day in late spring - the only change the addition of green -and one in, say, early March.

Should I then have been surprised that it works for yarn, too?

It's enough to make one think Mother Nature may have been on to something all along.