All is Quiet on Valentine's Day

So today is El Dia de Amor, as we say in the 305. The sun is shining brightly, and the cool front has brought in the most delicious temperatures. It looks lovely. Our most memorable VD was 13 years past, right after we moved to Villa Wifey. I set up a table in our front courtyard, brought in great food from DiNapoli, and we plugged in a boom box which played sweet music. The 4 of us toasted our gorgeous new home. The Ds were, I think, 12 and 9. This year, I'm doing a partial reprise. Old friends Jeff and Lili are coming over -- Lili with her famous flourless chocolate cake, and I plan to bring in sushi and dumplings, and have ample champagne. The moon will be full, and I'll fire up a chimnea for some warmth. D1 is joining us, too. And we'll celebrate love, which anyone of any sense knows isn't just the candy and flowers thing, but rather the deep connection between people. Speaking of flowers, VD is also sad for me. Each year I'd send flowers to my Mom in Delray, saying she was my first valentine...She'd call me, so excited: "Oh, David -- they're BEEEEEEYOUTEEEFUL!" Some years I'd sent a potted plant, and she'd lovingly tend to it for years afterwards. Last year I brought her roses in the nursing home, and put them in a vase for her before taking her outside for a walk. It was likewise a sunny day, and she looked skyward and said "Thank you mother nature!" as her skin was warmed by the rays. This year, for the first time, my first valentine is gone. Also speaking of flowers, I never get them for Wifey, becuase she's had enough of them from her years as a flower broker. This year, on the Wifey VD front, I scored big. The Miami Herald asked readers to submit stories for their online paper about how they met their life's partners, and I did so. I got a call from the young reporter Tuesday night, and she told me of hundreds sent in, they selected several, and mine was one. It hasn't come out yet, but the reporter just emailed to say it would be. I wrote about how the Hollies song is about a bus stop and an umbrella, but Wifey and I have a mailbox -- the one that got stuck outside my door was what caused us to meet -- 30 years ago last August. When we celebrated our silver anniversary, we took D2 to the spot and recreated the meeting. D2 laughed and rolled her eyes as she photographed it. Wifey looks the same as she did. I'm more wrinkled, fatter, and grayer. Who da romantic man, huh?