Yellow

Yesterday, as I sped about VCO province, up and down the lake like a mad thing (thank God for the world's-most-battered Panda), I started to notice a theme.

A yellow theme.

The daffodils gathered in crowds (nay, hosts) everywhere I look are gaily nodding at the ripe lemons in the boughs of the lemon trees that do so well in sunny, sheltered spots. The mimosa trees are giant sculptures made up of thousands of tiny pom-poms towering from the lower slopes of the lakeside. The bright yellow primulas are still flourishing in the stony nooks and crannies. And the forsythia, large and small, are displaying their fragile flowers.

There are yellow butterflies and yellow-breasted birds. Yellow roadworks signs have sprouted up all along the lakeside SS34 (even where there are no visible roadworks), and gangs of chaps are out in yellow overalls painting the alberghi yellow in time for the Easter influx of visitors.

Even B., home from her travels, has ferretted out a yellow sunhat and wears it even in bed, and Mama is tempted to pull on her token yellow T-shirt.


Perhaps some marketing genius should institute a Yellow Festival - a Sunday in March when we all wear yellow, eat yellow, paint our faces yellow and race yellow boats. There could be yellow balloons and yellow bumper stickers, yellow paintballing, yellow cakes, yellow caramelle and yellow cocktails.

Sound like fun?


PS The eggs in the incubator have been candled and eight have quickened. Unless the cats or the kids get them, we may have cute little yellow chicks in a couple of weeks. Fingers crossed.