The only pink in our house is a golf shirt in Dearly Beloved’s closet and yes, he looks very cute in it. (Let’s not mention his beige shorts that I washed with a cranberry shirt.)
I, on the other hand, look queasy in pink. People are inclined to look concerned and ask how I’m feeling.
So what am I doing on Pink Saturday? I found something pink that made me smile.
POP–plenty of pink–in a nearby consignment store, but no smiles.
At the surf shop, a pink ocean kayak was on display. Nope, not smile-worthy.
Nature offered pink, even in early September: the Myrtle family is prominent in the area.
Now for the made-me-smile pink find. . . .
I hit the motherlode.