It’s that time of year again. As Valentine’s Day draws near, businesses of every kind try to capitalize on our affection obligations. Hearts abound—on cards, in jewelry, as the shape of cookies and pizzas. At the sight of hearts, hopeful recipients quiver with expectation; gift-givers quiver over the appropriateness of their chosen gifts.
At the sight of hearts, I fondly remember a certain pooch. Valentine’s Day can be far in the distance and I still see hearts everywhere I look—like the absent tree branch (above) I noticed during a January walk.
My
beloved canine had a heart-shaped brindle patch on her left side. Children in the ’hood found it magical and often asked how and why we tattooed her. [I thought then that this was just one of those funky thought processes of young kids. I’ve since discovered that some people really do TATTOO their dogs. Ugh.]
Anyway, you’ve one more day to arrange that perfect Valentine. Here’s some humor from the Appalachians to get your creative juices flowing:
Lines for Valentines
by Anne Shelby, from Appalachian StudiesIf you won’t be my valentineThe moon can’t glow. The stars can’t shine.The corn won’t grow and the forks won’t tineIf you won’t be my valentine.If you won’t be my valentineI’ll hold my breath. I’ll pout. I’ll pine.I’ll stomp and spit and swear and whineIf you won’t be my valentine.If you won’t be my valentineI’ll drink a pint of turpentine.I’ll hang myself on a kudzu vine.I’ll exhaust myself in nervous rhyme.I’m liable to commit a crimeIf you won’t be my valentine.If you will be my valentineOn chocolate cherries we shall dineAnd drink our fill of warm red wineAnd not get up till half past nineAnd step out light and dress up fineAnd seek what’s silly and sublimeAnd we’ll be happy all the time.If you will be my valentine.