Valentine's Day 2013

It's no secret that I despise Valentine's Day.  And this is NOT a post divorce thing.  I hated it then too: because I wasn't dating/married to the romantic type. Well, that's not entirely true.  The one and only good V-Day I ever had was February 14, 2000.  He really loved me in month six. That may have been the one and only time he deemed me thin enough to receive the gift of chocolate   ;)

I recall the V-Day I screamed at him because he came home at 10:00 at night to cold steaks that I had made, because he spent that entire Saturday snowmobiling with his Dad's drunk friends.  I recall the cold and awkward V-Day in Bertucci's when he yelled at me for leaving the coupon in the car.  Mostly I remember that we always bought each other good shit, because we were good at presents.  Not feelings.  But when it came to presents we were solid.

But I digress.  Anyway, as kids it was the sweetest thing, right?  It meant those little foldable valentine's cards with characters on them from your entire class, and doing a craft project to make a mailbox for them.  It meant candy: my parents always bought us those little russell stover heart shaped boxes with chocolates.  Mostly it meant nothing more than the superficial, and that was pleasant.  Mostly in the adult world, it's a shitty holiday that puts pressure on people who should just otherwise focus on treating each other well every regular day.

So, this year I am determined to dial it back to the childhood level.  What did it mean then?  Treats and decorations.  And that's what it's going to mean to me again.  I refuse to feel badly about being alone, because even people in relationships struggle on this particular holiday.  I'm going to treat myself and celebrate my awesomeness on my own.  I'm buying myself flowers.  Yes, I am.  From the same delivery company Jaime used to use and I'm dragging out that beautiful red vase he gave me the flowers in on that last V-day together because I fucking love that vase and I'm going to get good use out of  it.  And I asked my cousin Michelle to make me a dozen cupcakes (she has a business).  I'm getting dark chocolate with raspberry preserve filling, and white chocolate chambord swiss meringue frosting.  Yes, be jealous that I'm going to inhale those bitches (okay, I'm going to share with my family) and enjoy myself.  And I'm going to share with you all my attempt at putting a tiny bit of V-day spirit into the family home.  May your Valentine's Day NOT suck.  :)

Proflowers.  He used to buy me flowers from them because Howard Stern used them: oh love.

Courtesy of Happy Cake, see description above.  Yum.

my homeade mantel decor

my wreath v-day craft project 

Pumpkins 2012

Part of learning to live an artful life involves tapping into a part of me, that for a short time, died.  Little things that used to bring me joy, seemed fruitless for awhile.  I lost a part of myself that I was afraid I would never get back.  But it is coming back.  Slowly, and bit by bit.

Tradition is important to me, as is family.  And I've always felt connected to the rituals of my childhood that sustained me even through rough times.  Holidays were perfect examples.  We were big into tradition: tree decorating, egg dying, and of course, pumpkin carving.

I take my pumpkin carving seriously.  Okay fine, too seriously.  I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist.  (Who me?  Never, ever.)  I am working on simplicity.  I'm getting there.  But I felt a tremendous amount of joy because for the first time, in maybe, (11 years????) all three of my sisters were in a room carving a pumpkin.  We had a few additions to our ritual.  There was an adorable baby watching in awe, and an "Uncle" Dave carving a pumpkin with Shannon.  But there was joy right along with the change.  And yes, I did think of him.  Shannon and I talked about a few of the pumpkin that Jaime had "created" over the years as he used to get into this family tradition right along beside me.  But it was okay.  I was okay.  The pictures of the final product are courtesy of my brother in law.  He is a much better photographer than I.