It’s Valentine’s day. I don’t celebrate. Craig and I talk love every day so we don’t need a day of amnesty once a year. I think all the businesses conspired to cause people to spend foolishly and so voila Valentine’s became a good idea to some at one point. My mom gets a poem every year from Pete, that’s is fabulous. I’d take that but I didn’t marry a poet. In college I worked in a flower shop, and that really ruined Valentine’s day for me. Working that hard so people can buy overpriced flowers that will die in a few days just so they don’t get in trouble with their girlfriends didn’t make sense. And some just want to show off. Yuck. I do however enjoy showering my boys with the love of their mama that can’t be contained. I also love to surprise people that I didn’t “tip” at Christmas with a special gift on Valentine’s day. That’s all fun and I don’t mind playing along that way.
Jack and I put out craft items in pinks and reds with all sorts of stickers and heart punches and papers at the end of January. We leave it on the table and occasionally work on a special card project for his class party. I know any year now he’s going to say, no thanks mom it’s not cool any more. Until then we enjoy the project. He’s a thoughtful boy who loves to make his grandparents and special others cards on a regular basis. He’s also the only one who receives mail other than bills around here! He’s no dummy. Give what you hope to receive. This week I kept putting the pleasurable task of making valentine’s cookies on the list and it never seemed to get done. I love making cookies. I can’t eat them, but it gives me great joy to see everyone else enjoy them. It didn’t get done this year. Oh well, no one can call me Martha Stewart.
I gave myself a gift today. I don’t mind doing that and Craig is relieved when I do. When Donny and I were on our way back from Baylor last week we stopped at Calvert, TX. It’s a little town that’s stuck in style from a hundred years ago. It’s very cool. It’s an authentic western town with big porches and store front windows of yesteryear. It’s beautiful. It almost fully summoned the hiding cowgirl in me to come out and play. Donny and I explored it for an hour on our trip down. There are many antique shops that I couldn’t resist exploring. One of them had a rug that captured my fancy and stayed with me all week. If you really know me well, then you know I love rugs. Beautiful hand knotted thick wool rugs with gorgeous patterns make me swoon. They define my home. I already have too many for a girl who will someday down size her house. But I saw one that was needy, too pretty to forget and, poor thing it was flawed. Perfection is over rated. Really it is. If something is 95% perfect, I think it’s generous to overlook the five percent problem. This rug was closed up in a house for a while where some moths had a meal in one spot as big as my fist. Fortunately it’s in a spot on the rug that would most likely go under the furniture. Last weekend, I came home measured, thought about it, then called him up and told him I wanted it. He said he’d hold it for me. Today Lucy and I drove two hours north to Calvert to get our rug, turned around and drove two hours home to put it under the kitchen table. It is GORGEOUS. A beautiful hand knotted rug will last fifty years or more and look the same. Here’s the best part of my gift: he paid 3500 for it, but because some moths had lunch on it I got it for 300! W00-hoo! And the worn spot is perfectly centered under the base of our table, where no one will ever know! Except for you. But the point is, even something less than perfect but still beautiful needs a home, and now it has one, and I will enjoy it’s beautiful colors and patterns for a long time. Tomorrow I will photograph it so you can enjoy it too, but for now I invite you to enjoy some photos of Calvert, TX that I took last weekend.
At the candle shop the woman who makes wonderful candles saw my camera and immediately pulled open a sliding door in her shop and brought out her bullmastiff for me to enjoy (182 pounds). He was cool. After she sold me three candles she explained that she lives in the back of the store, she slid open the door and let me have a shot. This town is full of characters! The guy who sold me the rug showed me a picture of him with his 18 week old tiger that runs his house like a house cat. I need to go back to that town it has culture of a different kind that I sorely miss where I live.