A CONFLICTED HEART

I feel about  Valentine's Day the same way I felt when I found that my toddler daughter had removed the child safety cap from an electrical outlet and plugged in an extension cord to her my Easy Bake Oven…  Conflicted.

On one hand, I felt incredibly proud of her for the ingenuity, confidence, and daring.  On the other hand, I felt worried for humanity.  Same with Valentine’s Day. Conflicted.

On one hand, the holiday represents some of the happiest memories of my childhood.  I still have the box that my mother (the Duchess) labeled Valentines {in pink and red pen of course} filled with pastel paper, doilies and glue.  I loved making each card- folding the paper in half, carefully cutting out the shape of an ice cream cone and unfolding it to find…voila!... a perfect heart that I could decorate with lacy paper doily trim.  

I fervently hoped that Sheldon Gomberg would recognize the undying 6-year-old love I poured into my careful valentine card handwriting, and finally notice me.  I loved bringing home the construction paper covered shoebox that held the valentines I got that day, loved throwing myself down on my bed to open each little white envelope, loved eating every chalky conversational heart.

On the other hand, there were way too many times that my girlish self esteem was crushed as I tallied the adoring pile of cupcakes, flowers, and love notes that Cathy Adams received against mine {none} and felt lacking.  Or watched the towering arrangements of velvety red roses being delivered….to someone else.  Valentine’s Day can take even the strongest of women down hard.

So Feminist me says “Ugh! A conjured holiday designed to sell chocolate and lacy lingerie, I don’t need it!”  but Post-Feminist me says “Oooh! Chocolate and lacy lingerie, I need it!”  See? Conflicted.

This year I’m going to try to rise above my split personality.  I’m treating the holiday like Thanksgiving, a love Thanksgiving.  From the postman who holds my mail even when I forget to file the paperwork, to my darling brother, rock of our family, I’m sending valentines to everyone I love. 

Check the mailbox Sheldon.

1. Something pretty, silk and lacy from Bloom or Lulabelle Lingerie please, we’re not beyond cliché.
2. Car Detail- its’ not sexy, but our car is where we live most of the day.  It’s nice to have the sportsock-smell removed, if for just a moment.
3. Simple pearls from Cohasset Jewelers.  Yankee Chic is so very in.
4. David Austin Rose Bushes. I’m a Darwinian Gardener, survival of the fittest, only the strong survive my neglect. David Austin Antique Roses make the grade.  Gorgeous colors and dreamy fragrances.  Smitten.
5. A painting by Sean Thomas.  His take on Piglet- charming and heartbreaking all at once.  Sigh.
6. I love the Ethiopian silver jewelry from Native in Scituate, it’s the best selection I’ve seen outside of Manhattan and I want me some.
7. Tashka by Beatrice necklace from Hingham Jewelers- It’s happy happy jewelry to wear any time, and colored stones are in.
8. A weekend at The Inn at Weathersfield.  Amazing food and very limited Internet service.  Sweet Inaccessability!
9. Membership to Trustees or Holly Hill- because they're amazing local treasures to support and enjoy.