Not Anti- St. Valentine's

I realise that St. Valentine's Day- not unlike most holidays- is incredibly commercialized. There's a huge pressure to buy gifts and cards for anyone and anybody, a pressure I resist. Now, I realise that in reality we love many people, but I think St. Valentine's Day should be kept for lovers. Please keep in mind that this profession comes from a woman who will recieve her first "real" Valentine next week. I am not making this declaration as a woman who has always had a card, fluffy bear or flowers; I know how it feels to be without a Valentine.

Growing up, I grew excited when Valentine's came around, but not because I would receive cards or candy from classmates or family. I enjoyed seeing the cards that my parents exchanged displayed on the mantle as little testaments to the romantic love they shared. They served as reminders that even as the going got tough, love was a powerful force. Admittedly, they also allowed me to fantacize over my future Valentine's.

When my mother passed away, I found myself looking through her things; I found old letters and cards she and my father had held onto. Among them were hand-made Valentine's with heartfelt, personal messages, presumably from before Hallmark was affordable or had exploded upon England's newsagents.

It is perhaps the memories of those cards that make me want to celebrate Valentine's Day even more than before. I could boycott the day on the grounds that it is too commercialized, but seeing that I realise that love is a beautiful thing, I don't want to do that. Anyhow, the card companies have caught on to the boycott and now produce "anti-Valentine's" cards; do the "anti's" even look at the card aisle?

So instead of a boycott, I suggest that the romantic, responsible consumers among us avoid buying presents, or set a modest budget. Stick with the traditional if you can, or buy something that will last for decades to come. Make a card or buy a recycled card or two. Write from your heart in those cards, keep them safe, and look at them as a chronicle of love. The future you and yours will be glad you did.

And of course, if things end sour and you'd rather forget, the recycling bin ain't going nowhere.

A new semester, a new me

Ok, that title is misleading, but it feels right. I haven't really changed this semester, but I do feel rejuvenated. I failed rather miserably at my car-free experiment, partly due to weather, but also due to me. I am at peace with this and realise that I am not yet cut-out to be a rainy-weather cyclist. Notice that I said "yet."

Teaching is off to a good start. I finally feel organised in the classroom, a feeling I'd been sorely lacking since my mother's death. I certainly miss my mother, but I am so happy to feel more in control and at peace with my life.

This semester, I am taking two classes: Environmental Ethics and Animal Protection. I have almost finised 2 of the books and will write about them here shortly. I feel so at home in this program and am confident that pursuing this degree was the right choice for me.

I have sprouted spagetti squash and apple seeds and have some sturdy little plants going. I am giving container gardening a go; let's hope the squirrels don't get to the plants before I can.