There is some silence between us.
She has bought me a driftwood frame, with space for three photographs. The first depicts the two of us in Prague, sat at a metal table outside a bar, two large glasses of beer sparkling in the sun. It is like a publicity shot for the British Contentment Society.
The second is of me, lolling on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, a short city break at one of the happiest times of our lives. I have the blissful look of a man who has eaten well, and used his hotel room to the full.
The third photograph is one which we took ourselves, holding the camera away from our faces and clicking in hope. We are stood on one of the local beaches at Brancaster, which is like a cross between New Zealand’s spectacular Ninety Mile Beach, and Antarctica. No professional could have taken a better shot.
It is not my fault that my romantic gift of a subscription to New Scientist magazine, complete with credit-crunch busting 30% discount has failed to arrive in the post this morning.
I cast my mind back to the previous evening in the Village Pub.
I had been quite open with the LTLP that I had not been able to get her a card, as I had got sidetracked with the need to get a new laundry basket. Unfortunately, Short Tony had mentioned in front of her that he had got Mrs Short Tony a card, and Big A had talked about his card, plus flowers. This was not helpful.
I do not quite know how Valentine’s day crept up on me this year. It is ridiculous. Part of the thing is because it is so confusing – if it were held on the same day each year then everything would be more straightforward. Plus it is just a commercial thing, plus I do not need a ‘special day’ to remind the LTLP why she loves me so much.
“At least I got us a table,” I comment.
The lady plonks two fry ups down in front of us.
“This is not,” says the LTLP, “quite what I had in mind.”
At least you’re both together in one place, and not trying to eat sheep’s heart. Personally I don’t think you’ll ever top the haagen daazs, maybe you could go for a reprise?
Jonny, you are the author of the touching and emotionally draining ode to the rural post office are you not? And you own your very own banjo?? You telling me that, having failed miserably on the card (note for future – have toddler glue bits of whatever non-moist small foodstuffs are in the cupboard to a bit of stiff paper. Tell the LTLP it is a heart because you two love her SOOO much. If you’re feeling really ambitious, have toddler make meaningful looking marks around the edges with pen or something) you couldn’t improvise something appropriate? Honestly, I think you’re just not trying.
Should have gone down the road and got some Thornham oysters, job sorted.
Hahahaha!
Listen man, romance is everything but cliche.
And you are right… you need not one day to profess love or to remind your partner exactly why she is the luckiest gal in the world to have fallen for a stud like you.
And even though she may have been disappointed with the lack of fanfare… I will tell you something… she already knows why. That is why she is still with you.
Send her flowers because it’s Tuesday.
Write her a love letter because it’s raining.
Give her a card because it’s July.
Let everyday be Valentine’s according to your pocket, and imagination.
Love, when done best, ought not to be confined to one single day.
I got a bit sidelined by the splendour of Sheer Almshouse’s comment and have had to bookmark his blog to read at my leisure. Um.
Right, what he said.
If it’s any help (which it isn’t of course) I didn’t receive anything from the Sage although I’d have been thrilled by the promise of a subscription to New Scientist. I didn’t give him a present either as I didn’t want to embarrass him. We didn’t go out to dinner.
Mind you, tonight he nearly said he loved me.
At which leisurely point I discovered it was her and she and all that. Apologies, SA. I promise to be your most devoted reader and make up for thinking, for a few moments, that you were an exceptionally charming bloke.
Hahahaha! Z!
You crack me up!
Touchingly thoughtful presents there from the LTLP – allow me to award her a perfect 10. Then again, every day that passes without her impulsively hacking your head off with a breadknife and pitching it in with the chickens is a testament to her limitless capacity for saintly and disinterested love. That, or the efficacy of the liquid straitjacket known as Dame Laudanum…
I bet your pleased then Jonny that the LTLP got something a little romantic this year, instead of some ointment for your “knackers”
Did that clear up by the way?
Pure crazy. I can’t imagine why she wasn’t delighted :p
Saying that, my husband and I decided we couldn’t be bothered with it this year. I’ve told him to check beforehand next year because, being female, I may have changed my mind by then.
I got a bottle of Russian vodka. It will serve it’s purpose and that’s all I care about. Q had his Private Eye subscription re-newed – oh, and he re-newed my domain name. VD Day is to celebrate the Annual Shag and re-new things.
Anything extra is highly accepted aswell.
Porsche Guy and I don’t really do Valentine’s Day – except for amusing or raunchy cards – but we did almost win at the Trivial Pursuit party that we went to that night. And I ate too much Valentine’s junk and got sick to my stomach. I expect better next year.
Oh, Jonny oh Jonny oh Jonny-o…
Only hopeful suitors and cheating spouses have anything to gain from that schmaltzy consumer fraud known as Valentine’s Day.
Love and cheap sentiment are two entirely different things, so don’t sweat it.
Besides, it’s long been rumored that St. Valentine was a crabby eunuch who detested the colour red.
(Well, I made that last part up to make you feel better. Do you feel better?)
The annoying thing is that I played snooker yesterday with John Twonil and the Village Doctor and the Chipper Barman. And none of them had done anything. Not even a subscription to ‘New Scientist’ magazine (30% discount). But were they there to say this in front of the LTLP? Were they fuck. Booooooo.
OK Buster so you think one special day is just daft – so do what MTL does and make the whole year a Valentine. That means regular flowers and other tokens of devotion.
love this site but ninety mile beach is in Australia
Hullo Hollie.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninety_Mile_Beach,_New_Zealand
(I believe there might be one in Australia also)
You know what this means, don’t you?
Dog house for you. Or in your case, chicken coop.
I suppose I am very lucky really because I got 2 dozen red roses delivered by the local florist. I wouldn’t have expected any less – well, maybe a dozen would have been fine but double was even better.
I know it is a commercial thing and it shouldn’t matter if one’s partner forgets, but it is so much better when they don’t forget.
Nervous chuckle over. The sort of chuckle one does when reading something too close to home for comfort. LTLP got more than Mrs Blazing. I should do something about that.
*Makes note to check out the Valentine’s Day post from previous years.
*
I like your valentines plans. I overdid this year, my girlfriend was working, but when she came home I loaded her up with chocolates and the light. This seemed to work pretty well because in the morning I got a full English breakfast.