It doesn't have to be green. Remember in kindergarten when you were sitting alone eating paste and coloring with those big fat crayons while the rest of the kids were engaged in meaningful conversation along the lines of, "And the ball. The ball, it was over there. And so then I was over there. And then the ball was zoom and it was no fair. Because of the chair. Over there."? You were a bit bored and perhaps a bit affected by the lead in the paste (or was that in the paint?) and decided to make the grass blue. Blue mainly to provide a better compliment to the green sky you'd colored in a few moments ago. The green sky was less artistic license and more a result of Ricky scribbling green onto your paper as he walked past on the way to get a toy truck from the Toy Box. Better to adapt than to start over, you always said. A saying that would serve to guide you later in life both to encourage your remaining in bad situations longer than you should have and also to allow you some uncommon ability to take the road less traveled, as it were. So with the sky green and the grass blue you were about to add some foreground when Mrs. McIntyre appeared over your shoulder and began her usual speech about how you needed to stop drawing since drawing time was over and to get down on the rugs with the rest of the children. This time she interrupted herself, aghast at the blasphemy before her eyes. A green sky and blue grass! Never having been to Kentucky, it was the grass that disturbed her the most. "Oh honey, the grass is not blue. The grass is green. Ok? Gruh-grass, gruh-green. You can remember they both start with G. Gruh. Gruh-een. Gruh-ass. Now why don't you do it over again and make it right." Never one to prefer rug burns to coloring (at least in kindergarten), you gathered a fresh piece of coloring paper and began to redraw the scene. With green grass. One blade at a time, in a form of silent protest. I believe that now they would call this some form of Passive-Aggressive pathology, but at the time it was just called being a smart-ass. Well Mrs. McIntyre, the grass doesn't have to be green. Welcome to The Shrine.