The backboard outside the shop read: Chocolate Lobsters.
Didn’t need red hearts to know it’s almost Valentine’s Day in this corner of coastal New England.
February’s the month of love sweet love and for elementary school children, the making or buying of Valentines for all classmates.
Last February I was in California, so Basil and I raced to CVS to buy Valentines. I sought sentiment. Basil hunted Ninja Turtles and SpiderMan. When I unearthed packages of cute puppies with sweet sayings, Basil huffed,”Nobody likes puppies, Momo!”
This past weekend, I headed to Ipswich to care for two Grands while their parents enjoyed a getaway. We three played games, watched movies, made Norwegian pancakes, practiced music and lived life. We shopped for craft supplies, and Sunday evening, they made Valentines, glittering the place while I did supper dishes.
When I asked Kate, age seven, what she was writing, she said,”If I really know them, I say something nice. If I don’t like them or know them, I say only, Happy Valentine’s Day.”
At tuck-in time, we sang in halting Norwegian, “Songs about Jesus, O’ sing them again.” This is the fifth generation to be reminded through songs at bedtime, “Jesus loves you.”
Ritual provides sacred spaces for love to slip in to bless, heal, and cushion the cares of the day.
Someone said, “Without love, the rich and poor live in the same house.”
On a less holy note, an anonymous person wrote, “I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.”
Charles Schulz said, “All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.”
How about a chocolate lobster?
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