to you all.
What others may dismiss as commercial twaddle I kind of enjoy, mainly because it makes me laugh. On what other night of the year does the local ratty cafe attempt to turn itself into a passion palace by adding carnation buds to each table and sticking a few dog-eared cardboard hearts up in the window? When else is the Underground heaving with wild-eyed empty-handed men, smug-looking women hefting huge bunches of flowers, and cross-looking other people utterly sick of being sideswiped by three dozen red roses ? The whole thing is hugely amusing.
Not to mention the fact that our local flower seller, who usually is slightly on the miserable side, practically skipping with joy with the opportunity to charge panic-buyers over the odds for the last few slightly battered bunches of Carnations.
Alpha and I don't bother much as our wedding anniversary is two days after Valentine's Day, but we do small tokens and always a card (a tradition Alpha unwisely tried to drop after we got married). Alpha is currently munching on his Valentine's Haribo sweets (he likes them, OK? Plus I decanted them into a cute box and tied ribbon around it, so full marks to me) and reading the card which arrived earlier from a 'mystery' admirer. He is cooking me a surprise dinner (such a surprise that the groceries were smuggled into the house in a MI5-worthy operation and I have been banned from the kitchen, hurray!), so I am looking forward to my sort of evening.
But the best thing, and I'm sure Alpha will back me on this one, are the two Valentine's cards made for us by Firstborn and the Small(er) One. Dripping with glitter, relentlessly pink and embellished with wonky hearts (Firstborn has also drawn, inexplicably, a bunny on hers), they reek of