Saturday, September 18, 2010

New Look

Not me, this.
Something nasty snuck into my blog from the host site, causing Google to flash up an
(er... alert...)
if you tried to access it.

Being a technophobe (a.k.a. normal human being; esp. f.; esp. of mature years) and also a complete wimp when it comes to interpreting an English language help page, never mind a Spanish one, I did the obvious, and dumped the host that has maintained my blog lists perfectly well since Day 1, and moved my site to Google (This had better not be a marketing tactic...).

And this involved changing my template. My lovely, dappled spring day template. Sigh......

Mostly, I want my blog to look soothing. If I have to focus on a screen for any length of time, (and focusing is becoming more of an issue each year: next time I grope my way to the opticians, perhaps I should enquire about share options...) I want said screen to be either cheerful or soothing, and preferably both. So that means green

An Armenian friend (olive skin, amber-flecked green eyes, and the craziest strawberry blonde curls you can imagine) wears a lot of lime green and chartreuse, both fabulous on her. I adore green, and pretty well every variation thereof, with the exception of chartreuse. And lime green's ok, I suppose, but a bit sixties circles and white patent leather boots......

No, give me the sage and olive that are so comforting in northern light; give me spangles in tree tops, shadows among branches, gleaming moss on riverbanks and wet rocks, powdery lichens on grey rocks and tree bark; blue greens, grey greens, brownish greens.

But yellowish greens? No thanks.

For me, there's something unsettling, a suggestion of hidden danger, about yellow greens - perhaps a sub-conscious association with watchful cats - specifically the evil Mr Grey, a round-eyed, grey Burmese from two doors down in Liverpool, whose preferred daily entertainment was to settle in a high, visible, spot, and simply watch our bog-standard, not-terribly-bright tabby - the inappropriately named Gremlin - until she cracked and skittered into the house, eyes wide and fur sparking. (Should have called her Mogwai.)

Now, though, I associate chartreuse with Sophie, who I miss, and may never see again; and zingy lime, so cowed and feeble under blue northern light - works a treat here in Spain, several degrees closer to the equator.

So I've gone for a green blog template.

Thought for the Day:

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