Valentine’s Day? It’s just a carve-up

YOU will, I’m sure, have noticed that this edition of your excellent EALife magazine has something of a romantic hue this week.

This sort of thing doesn’t just happen, you know, it takes thought and planning and messages from editor Sheline which say things like: “Just a reminder that Feb 12 will have a Valentine’s feel to it should you feel the need to embrace the love.”

Well, I’m up for a bit of that, not least because I’ve just seen the pictures to the left of this column. She’s playing fast and loose with my blood pressure, that editor.

Traditionally, Small But Fierce of Ipswich and I have had something of a jaundiced view of the whole Valentine’s Day gig.

I’m sure that in the early days of our great romance there were giant padded cards and chocolates and roses and candle-lit dinners, though I’m struggling to recall specifics.


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I do remember trying to carve a heart out of wood, a gift from the hands of a true lover. It looked like a kidney, but SBF was kind about it.

Then the Ginger Ninja appeared, and we found ourselves generally forgetting everything about it and confusing it at least once with pancake day.

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Now that the GN is away we are free to re-engage with the whole event, which will be nice.

Quite how, I have no idea. “We should mark Valentine’s Day this year,” said the curly one, without caring to explain further.

I’m at a loss, frankly, to know how best to tackle this beast (Valentine’s Day, not SBF) in an original, heartfelt, sincere but not syrupy way.

I’ve plenty of timber lying around, so I could have another crack at carving something and see what internal organ I can come up with.

I could take her out for dinner somewhere... but on a Monday night? Doesn’t seem right, somehow.

We could go to the cinema and head straight for the back row, but I’m not sure that Tron: Legacy in 3D is really what the Love Doctor ordered.

So what’s left? Maybe I’ll get Gary Rhodes out (I mean the cookbook; I don’t keep a cupboard full of captive celebrity chefs) and select a recipe d’amour and cook up a feast of pure passion.

On the other hand we’ve just had a nice new worktop, so we wouldn’t want to spoil it.

So I suspect we’ll probably potter down to the local, hold hands and peer at one another in an affectionate, yet undemonstrative way. After all, it will be a Monday.

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