For My Husband And Sherry Who Think I Need More Orange


I make a concession mid-October through Thanksgiving, a compromise for a  man who wishes he could bring back the seventies and the orange and plaid love seat he had when we met, who mourns every dry Summer that leads to brown Autumn.

I was in Marching Band in high school with a flute. Okay, piccolo, and me like the calf born with a fifth leg who couldn’t march to a 4/4 beat. The colors – orange and black, perpetual Halloween, mutant bee. I started ditching practice and football games. The trauma reignited when I moved to a college town that lives for football, its colors – orange and black.


How does one live in this town when one is neither a fan of football or orange? Quietly. I am not quiet. I will wear black ostentatiously as a funeral director.  I have owned a black cat.

I will celebrate orange six weeks of the year. Rust counts as orange. No? Alright, so, I put up black cats and black owls, the latter looking at least somewhat stately, in orange football sweaters, crows in orange hats, witches. Also in orange. And yes, there are pumpkins.

The more I shun orange the more I see orange in the things that I love  and worse, in OSU orange and black.


2 thoughts on “For My Husband And Sherry Who Think I Need More Orange

  1. annewlindsay says:

    I am loving orange right now. A month ago I helped Ivan choose a colour for his studio — ahh. We chose orange. I don’t think it was called ‘orange’ it was called something else, more poetic, something like russet skyline or bruised pumpkin or mandarin sleeve. But it was orange. The studio has an oriental rug on oak hardwood, a shiny black grand piano, stained and painted glass panels from an old English church for window glass and a set of very distressed ornately carved shutters from Eastern Europe. Who’d’a thought orange would work in such a rich and somewhat ecclesiastical setting? But it does. There is a lot of prejudice against orange held over from the seventies when orange in its psychedelic form, paired with fluorescent green, was gaudily omnipresent. Orange is now on the upward trend. Or maybe we are missing the boat that’s just moving towards the colour harbour. I put up orange drapes in my flat about 10 months ago and bought an orangey coloured couch for another place just a few months back. I predict the trend to last no longer than another nine months. So my advice would be don’t buy orange broadloom. Paint is cheap to cover up.

  2. Never fear, Anne, my Sheltie is about as orange as it gets around here. Unless my husband sneaks another orange plaid something or another in, I’m a yellow/blue/burgundy/green/purple oh give me anything but orange kind of woman!

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