Thursday, 12 February 2009

Never Mind The Time, What's The Date Mr Wolf?

My Blogland calendar tells me today is 12th February, but that is only in my little corner. Some inhabitants will dispute this, depending on which order their morning sun rises, but I think everyone will agree, whenever the 14th arrives, it will be St Valentine's Day; Valentine, the patron saint of lovers. I've read blogs where a countdown has been in progress for days and days.

Dates and their significance I find intriguing. Only this Monday, I had a strange phone call from an electronic voice, reminding me of a dental appointment I have for 11 30am, Friday the thirteenth. I can almost feel some readers wince at this snippet of information. Maybe they don't like dentists, or maybe they suffer from triscadecaphobia (fear of number thirteen for those who are not familiar with this elegant word.)

In my usual haphazard fashion, this morning I read my emails, much as once upon a time I would have read actual letters, then became enthused to write a reply or two. Like you would.
Surfacing eventually into the real world, I find it is almost lunch time, and no breakfast has passed my lips, other than a glass of water.

A banana served to fend off stomach thinking about eating itself, and I decided to grill a couple of rashers and toast a slice of bread, as more a brunch than a breakfast. If I then have a bowl of homemade vegetable soup somewhere between one and two, I should be round to a reasonable evening mealtime without eating more than I should, or skipping a meal altogether. Fine. When I take the small pack of bacon from the fridge, the best before date says '14 February'. Here we are back to Valentine's Day. Luckily, there were only four rashers in the pack, so with two gone this morning, I have all day tomorrow to decide how to use the other two before they immediately turn into a pumpkin on the stroke of midnight, Friday. Might make bacon and lentil soup. Yum.

I never received a Valentine card in the days of my youth, though I think I may have come close, once. I was between 18-21 - my ballroom dancing days, as I like to think of them. One particular 14th February came and went, and at the following Saturday's dance in the Pier Ballroom, as I whirled around the floor with one of my regular dance partners, he quizzed me about how many cards I'd received. When the answer 'None!' was given, he was strangely disbelieving.

Mum and Auntie Joan were at the dance as well ( they liked an occasional girls night out) and when John appealed to them for confirmation, I thought my Mum looked a tad sheepish. She never owned up, but I got the distinct feeling she knew more than she was letting on. My boy friend at that time did not meet with her approval, and I couldn't help but think maybe John had sent a card that was intercepted by Mama, thinking it may have been from He Who Shall Be Nameless. I shall never really know. But it might have been fun to get just one, just once.

I've been scribbling some lines, but am not sure I've managed to convey the idea as I mean to. Early English Valentines were often works of art, handmade; a far cry from the commercialised two-a-penny printed cards of today. Not that they are priced in pennies, more like pounds.
But youth of today doesn't give an impression of fidelity, and this gave me the idea that half a dozen bought cards can so easily be sent to half a dozen different boys/girls with minimum effort on the part of the sender, let alone minimum affection. That was what I aimed to express with today's 'work in progress' effort. Helpful hints wanted...

Will You Be Mine?

Victorians made
handcrafted favours as gifts
for Valentine's Day;
intricate designs,
elaborate and unique.
Secret messages from an admirer
who remained a mystery
to their beloved.

Now cards are mass-made,
multiple duplicity
made easy for roving eyes.

'By one get one free'.
Does this apply to lovers
in our modern world?

16 comments:

  1. If I could I would send you a special card made just for you made by me. But, alas I don't have your address.
    Hugs~~~Leslie

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  2. Love this stanza:

    Now cards are mass-made,
    multiple duplicity
    made easy for roving eyes.

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  3. Now cards are mass-made,
    multiple duplicity
    made easy for roving eyes.


    Excellent lines, too good

    Regrads

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  4. check out this

    http://avinash-theparaiah.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-still-yearn-for-you.html

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  5. Oh dear Jinksy - my heart goes out to you. Never had a Valentine's Card? All I can say is that farmers and Valentine Cards are never seen together in the same sentence - and I have been happily married to a farmer for years sans card - so don't lose any sleep over it!

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  6. We went out for V breakfast this morning. It's two days early but what we could manage this week. I suppose I should find or make a card? Sigh.

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  7. Happy Valentines day, Little red riding hood.

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  8. Jinksy, please come over to mine tomorrow for a card that will hopefully appeal to you - Very Victorian, for I am wholly with you on your sentiments about commercialism!

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  9. I am a real romantic, so I like Valentines cards! I don't mind the cards being commercial, as long as the love is real.

    Love the last line of the poem!

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  10. Ahhh Jinksy. Be my Bloggy Valentine?

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  11. Jinksy, You can be my Valentine. Since I have none of my own. I did get a few back in the day.... but mostly obligatory type. Thanks for the new word... triscadecaphobia... of one I once felt inclined... but have come to believe it is my "lucky" number.

    God bless.

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  12. Jinksy! Just read your comment over at mine, paragraphs added! You are fab! (And hopefully not too out of breath....) MH

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  13. THe Computer may be bringing back the good ol;d days. We make our own Christmas and Valentine Cards on the computer. A lot of thought gores into each one.
    We would do better if we only had your gift for poetry.

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  14. Awww... I've noticed we Americans do jump into Valentines much more than they do over here in England. I love the poem!

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  15. I loved this post Jinsky, you really make me smile.
    xxxxsm

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  16. Last tuesday evening I spent somewhere next to a group of about 8 girls who were 13 to 14-years young. One of them received a textmessage of a Valentine (never mind a card, just text your entire addressbook). Imagine 8 girls in a flutter, all giggling and totally excited about this one girls' admirer. And then the agitated discussions about how to find out who this guy was. Made me smile from ear to ear.

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