I LIVE in a red house, and I sit in a red living room.
And at no time is that red more flagrant than when the dawn sun rises over the mountains in March and streams in from the huge eastern window.
The back of the sofa seems yellow here, but it’s very red. The ceramic floor is brown with a reddish cast. My favorite color is not red, but green. No matter.
The house exterior is, of course, red, and that would be overboard above the Rio Bravo, up there among people more conservative about their surroundings.
Up there where I once lived I would have lived in a red house, but it never occurred to me. Anyway, neighborhood associations would frown upon red, thinking it excessive, not nice. We have no neighborhood associations down here. We do as we please.
It pleases me no end to live in a red house, sit on a red sofa and sip black coffee on beautiful mornings in March or any month. The scarlet life, yep.