A Year In Yellow

Yellow was the color that kept appearing , either boldly or subtly, during 2020. Flower petals and centers; cookie sprinkles; a garden bucket; cut up apples and green peppers; fabrics of new table linens, and a little girl’s dress, and a t-shirt quilt; Walter Anderson fox.

In art class decades ago, I was taught to look at the world with an eye for detail and color. We may think of yellow as being just one shade, as in the petals of a sunflower, but there are a kaleidoscope of yellows.

Highlights on a squash leaf is different than the candy yellow garden bucket.

Green peppers and Gala apples are gently yellow, when sliced.

Sunlight makes sunflower petals glow. Flower centers are the sunny focal point for pollinators.

Fabrics, true yellow to gold tones and the painted whimsical fox nod hello, but do not demand to be the center of attention.

And I cannot leave out the marshmallow Peep in a cup of coffee or the crispy cookie sprinkles nor the candy corn; they make life a little sweeter.

A new year approaches and I am not sure how I feel about it. A few days are left in 2020, which has been quite a challenge on so many levels. Not really ready to see what 2021 is going to bring. Matthew 6:34 comes to mind. So does Psalm 37:25. Take a look at these scriptures. They may give you comfort, if you are angst about the New Year.

Merry Christmas and Happy Safe New Year.

Blessings from the Exile’s Kitchen.

My Grandmother’s Scarf

To the reader in India, who has looked at this post, will you tell me, please, why? Is it the title? Is it that I wrote about renovating my old farmhouse? Is it that I told how melancholy it is to have a child go away to college? Is it the mention of my difficult past with natural disasters? Is it the little thought at the end of my inspirational Grandmother? Really, I’d like know. Thank you for visiting theexileskitchen. Blessings.



Last week it rained. The week before that it rained.  And the week before that. It’s soggy. None of my family in the Baton Rouge area were personally affected, but they are helping with the clean up and tearing out. Brings back childhood memories- sad, scary ones. This flooding in Louisiana is worse than what we experienced in 1983. My heart goes out to my native city. Our church collected needed items last Monday. I gave what I could.

My youngest went back to school Saturday afternoon. All day he kept asking if I was going to miss him.

“I already do and you’re not even gone yet,” was my answer.

He threw open his big arms and said like he did when he was little: “Hug?”

I hugged. He packed. Getting into his truck, he hesitated, jingled the keys.

“You know, if you need anything, just call me.”

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