I have it on good authority that “there ain’t no noun that can’t be verbed” so I’m valentining today. Why? Because I’ve found that waiting for a noun to drop through the letterbox is a poor way to approach love.
The way I’m going to valentine my day is to go to work by train, and to notice all that’s beautiful and wondrous: a frosty sunrise, a conversation with a colleague who’s full of enthusiasm, the repairs to the keys ‘O’ and ‘R’ carried out on my laptop, new sheets of card. I will reflect on the many blessings of love I have in my life, one of which is for mushroom risotto which I’ll cook for myself this evening when I get back to my warm home. As I stir the onions in oil, I’ll remember the times I’ve done this on a stove each evening of the brilliant camping trips I’ve shared with my longest-serving friend. Our next adventure begins in 3 months, 13 days, 15 hours and 57 minutes’ time.
Later, I’ll take this picture down from my wall. It’s a work of art that moves me each day of the year. It was brought home from school by my eldest son one February 14th long ago, He showed he is good at valentining from an early age. I relish the way his work shows a free, creative, colourful and open expression of affection for his younger brother. I’ll sit with it next to me while I eat the chocolate hearts given to me by my amazing goddaughter yesterday. We spent the afternoon painting pottery and chatting about this and that. My bowl expresses my love of flowers; hers, her love of animals. Both express our love of play. In her farmyard scene, among the chickens and pigs, lurks a T-Rex. If you look very carefully (and with your imagination) among my flowers, a chameleon is hiding.
❤️
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