It’s Christmas in my yard. And by “Christmas,” I do mean the fun-surprises-popping-up-everywhere holiday — I’m almost starting to feel spoiled. It seems like every few days something new is sprouting up or showing her true colors around here and I don’t know what the heck any of these plants, flowers, trees, or shrubs are that I’m seeing out my window, but I do know daffodils. And the daffodils have arrived.
And have they! Orlis and I are seeing daffodils in nearly every yard we pass. Our own offers just a sprinkling here and there, but some yards just go crazy with them.
It takes awhile to know one’s land, so while I do vow to learn the names, preferences, and personalities of these wonderful growing things over time (and adding some of our own too), for now we are experiencing these generous plantings by the previous owner as the visceral delight-to-the-senses that they are. In fact, it has been working perfectly just to follow the lead of an 18-month-old — touching, tasting, smelling, listening…admiring. Listening to the flowers has become my personal favorite. Sometimes they sound like the airplanes passing overhead; other times like the chickens in the yard next door. In any case, our yard is a playground and a learning laboratory both, and all we really have to do is notice.
Portlanders, I’m learning, do like to complain about the weather. And yes, here in the Pacific NW we are offered much generosity in the way of water from the skies. Christmas for our soil, if you will. There are plenty of days (or parts of days) when it’s not so easy to go out and smell the flowers — when it makes much more sense to bring the sunshine indoors. And for that, I am grateful for the sun palette.
Amid the patches of grey, I do find myself gravitating towards those friendly yellows and oranges these days, — when it comes to choosing something to wear in a pile of clean clothes, in sharing with a special feline a patch of mid-day sun, and when it comes to the paint on my walls. I believe, there are few problems a can of paint can’t fix, and in the case of a bit of muddy March blues, this is especially true.
Heeding the warnings of seasoned Oregonians, (“use the bike lanes!”, “choose bright paint colors!”) I am utterly delighted, truly, to bring a bit of Sun indoors — especially when She is being shy to show her face outside. Bright colors? You don’t have to tell me twice.
We used the Benjamen Moore color palette but had them match the colors over at the local Miller Paint Store to keep it real. So, it’s low-voc Miller Paint, I assure you. After some deliberation, we decided on the colors “marmalade” (lighter orange) and the darker “tangy orange.” They just tango, together, don’t they? And, I adore the way they show off that gorgeous quilt made by Orlis’ grandma. I love being in that room now and can practically feel the warmth of these shades from the sun palette working their magic on me — I hardly notice the drip-drips out the window.
For the little sunroom off the kitchen — the very 1st room we painted — we chose Benjiman Moore, “American Cheese.” And likewise with the double-take orange bedroom, I love being in here. The cheerfulness factor is potent, and let’s face it, the color was well-named. Throw a couple of playgroup toddlers in there with their burgeoning vocabularies and their bite-size everything, and I do declare, in fact, you are my sunshine.