Lots going on.  Mardi Gras, which Episcopalians generally call Shrove Tuesday and eat pancakes.  Oregon Statehood Day.  Ash Wednesday.  Lots of folks “give up” chocolate for Lent.  Perhaps a real sacrifice since this year Lent starts the day before Valentine’s Day.

For Statehood Day,  I put out the flag.

For Valentine’s  Day,  about all I do is arrange a few seasonal things on the chest in the front hall.

But Mary-Margaret’s first year in college, she drove across The Bay for a little quality time with her mama and we cooked up some over-the-top treats. It’s pretty much been down hill since then.

I remember Valentine’s Day in First Grade.  I was in Mrs. Hughes’s class in Healdton, Oklahoma.  Our class had one big Valentine box. We got a man’s hat box from Edith Tayar, who worked in her father’s dry goods and clothing shop down town.  We decorated it with crepe paper and cut a slot in the top.  A lot of the children in my class were too poor to be able buy any cards to put in the box. Mrs. Hughes gave out red and white paper scraps and and some paste for them to use.  I got to buy a booklet of punch-out ones and give one to everyone.  I remember that it took me a long time to print everyone’s name on each one.  Even then, I could see that this day was not a favorite one for a good number of people.

Last year, late in the day on February 14,  I was, as I often am, in Fred Meyer’s picking up a few things.  I could see there were a lot of men in there on their way home from work.  I must tell you that none of them seemed to be enjoying himself very much as he loaded up his basket with flowers, candy, perfume, champagne, underwear, and, possibly, jewelry, real or costume.  And an expensive card.  It was as though he couldn’t go home unless armed with all this stuff.  And maybe in return he would receive something from this display.

I don’t mean to be cynical, but romance orchestrated by Victoria’s Secret and Hallmark seems a bit faux.  Understatement has a certain appeal.  A single sweet kiss comes to mind.

And sending love from 1880.

Yesterday we said goodbye to Craig.  The service was just what he planned and our choir, of which he was a member for over thirty years, sang the music he had chosen.  He and Gillian were a handsome couple.

But I tell you what, if I had been there when he was courting Gillian,  I would have arm-wrestled her for him.  What a cutie!

I have used up the last of my favorite soap!  When I was in Italy in 2005, I took the train from Florence to Lucca one day with Deb.  It is an ancient, walled town, home to Pinocchio and Puccini.  I made a couple of small errors which really only added to the richness of the experience.  I spent a long time looking for the labyrinth at the duomo so I could walk it, only to discover that it was a tiny thing carved into a pillar in the portico wall that one could only “walk” with one’s finger.

Then, at lunch time I made a mistake in thinking that something listed under the salads as insalata vitello di tonnato would be a tuna salad but it was not.   It was veal with a bit of cold tuna sauce.  I don’t normally eat babies.  I ate it.  I always make nice in foreign countries.  Besides, everything in Italy is delizioso.

But later, I ventured in to a shop which sold all sorts of cleaning products for ordinary use, and not normally frequented by tourists.  Housewives were picking up Comet, Tilex, Clorox, bath soap.  I came across some soap in brown paper, oddly called “Marseille,” but apparently, as I have since learned,  is only available in ordinary shops in Italy.  My friend searched in vain for it when she was living in France.  I bought a box of it on the spot that day.  It smelled so good even through the wrapping paper.  It cost practically nothing.  I just used up my last bar.

If you know anyone who is going to Italy any time soon, I would like to send for another box.  I’ll pay.