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Archive for February, 2013

SONY DSCFirst and foremost, Happy St. Valentine’s Day to everyone.  Second, but equally important: when looking for “hearts” at morguefile.com remember they will show images of many types of hearts — country kitchen kitsch, bleeding heart flowers, candy hearts, all right next to the photo of an atrophied heart spent by far too many years of pork moving through its arteries.  I just felt it was my responsibility to warn you.  Go ahead and look.  I’ll wait.  See, I told you.

So, I went over to ICSW to do my recycling and catch up with Katrina (local glass artist and keeper of the bins), and while we were chatting, Dave pulled up with his recycling and his wife (not one and the same thing).  According to Dave, this was their Valentine’s Day date…yuk, yuk.  I could see the Missus wasn’t impressed.  I, on the other hand, and I’m not sure what this says about my state of mind, found the thought of going to the ICSW with someone you love to be romantic.  Who’s to say what romance should like?  I mean, does a box of candy prove one’s love for another?  Okay, I admit I was swayed by a bit of Poco Dolce once, but that was merely seduction, not love.  Champagne, you ask? Champagne and I had an argument under the freeway many years ago and are merely polite when we meet.   Fancy dinner?  Nah.  Lingerie?  Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! (Unless it’s flannel.)

Perhaps I’ve been too long in the woods, but romantic to me (besides a trip to the ICSW) would be someone mowing my property, hauling the debris to the back forty, laying down those fifty sacks of mulch I have waiting for spring, power washing the decks.  Oh, be still my beating heart.  Just thinking about it makes my knees go weak.  Careful, it could just be the tendonitis.

However you celebrate St. Valentine’s Day, remember: according to the dictionary, the word romance usually refers to love as emotion over libido.  I saved this last bit of information until the end because I knew if the guys read it first, they wouldn’t finish the post.

 

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