Something nasty snuck into my blog from the host site, causing Google to flash up an
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: