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Who’s my ginger peachy?
Valentine’s Day. A saint’s day or not, it’s one of those days I really enjoy. Always did. Even when I was a little kid, Valentine’s Day was fun. My mom, like many moms back in the day, would buy a couple of books of cards, the kind you had to cut out and paste the envelopes together. On the weekend before Valentine’s Day, we’d sit at the kitchen table and patiently (sort of patiently) cut out the cards and envelopes using the bluntest, most useless “kids” scissors ever. Mom being the frugal mom of seven kids, didn’t supply sticky tape to put those envelopes together. Nope, we made do with Elmer’s School Glue, and after cutting out the cards and envelopes, the gluing commenced. Bless my mom for all she did for us and with us. I laugh when I think about the mess we would have made scissoring and gluing. And, Mom was the kind of person who knew what it was like to be left out and insisted we cut out and addressed a card for every one of our classmates and, of course, the teacher. Even for the kid who picked his nose and wiped the boogers under his desk, and for the girl who always smelled like old cheese and acted like she was the best thing since sliced bread—for her cheese—got cards from the Durning kids. On the day of the big Valentine party, Mom would have made dozens of cookies for us to bring to class. I can’t even imagine how many cookies she must have baked for each of us to have enough for our friends.
When our children were in elementary school, LOML and I tried to replicate my childhood experience of cutting out cards, folding and gluing envelopes and addressing one card for each classmate. Not surprisingly, the chaos of blobby glue, sticky tape (yes, we had sticky tape), scissors, scraps of paper, “where’s the pencil”, “he took my valentine” and “I don’t want to send one to him/her”. Ah, the love. The love was palpable. In a funny kind of way it was good to see kids were still kids. As the last Valentine was addressed, I was reminded there had to be treats for the Valentine party. Pfft, cookies for thousands is no match for a woman whose mom could produce a commercialsized batch of sugar cookies at a moment’s notice. Like my mother did, in the early years we let our children help us decorate those cookies with red and pink sprinkles. It was easy enough to say and to do when you don’t have seven kids. Eventually, I just made the damn cookies a week ahead, froze them in batches and doled them out on the day of the Great Valentine Fest.
As Valentine’s Day approaches, I’m as excited as I ever was as a child. LOML and I send cards, with treat cards enclosed, via snail mail, to all of the grandchildren and grandfriend children. Even the newest wee fellow will get a corny Valentine’s Day card from us. He may not be ready for a McDonalds treat, but his parents will be. Believe me when I say, “As many times as we sent or received E-cards, it isn’t the same as opening that mail box and seeing envelopes of red and pink, handwritten notes of affection”. I’ll never tire of greeting cards in the mail. I’ll never tire of the cards with corny, risqué or funny sayings sent to me, personally.
Bee a Honey and have a great Valentine’s Day.
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