No one's made a comment, no one's batted an eye. No one's pointed out the impropriety of weeding flower beds or scrubbing bathroom floors while wearing a skirt and saffron yellow beads.
Well, "scrubbing" might be a tad dramatic. But I did wash them on my hands and knees.
Every morning when I wake up I think: today's the day I'm not going to wear these beads. And then I turn around and they're on me again!
The beads are from Target. I was there a few nights ago making practical purchases, such as laundry detergent and lipsmackers, when a flash of yellow caught my eye. I drew near, mesmerized. Did I fondle them? Hard to say, but next thing I knew there was a strand around my neck and I stared at my reflection, listening to the beads rustle as I swayed back and forth.
I don't know. I often remind myself happiness cannot be found in the accumulation of things.
But a splash of color. A mesmerizing, saffron hue.
It goes to the pleasure part of my brain, it really does.
And it's been there five days running.