On Monday, I made it pretty clear that I think Valentine’s Day is a farce designed by Hallmark and the department stores to get American consumers to consume more, preferably on credit because VISA and its ilk need our money too.
Brad gave me a Valentine’s Day gift last night.
My car has been down during the most recent cold snap, but on Monday, it started warming up and yesterday it made it into the 20s. Brad got my car running. No big deal, he said. It started up pretty well, what with it being warm and all. But why did it stop working during the cold snap?
He got down on his knees and figured it out. Apparently, the electric cord that attaches to the car had come loose so that the engine warming devices were not able to function. It’s subtle. You can’t see it unless you kneel in the snow, which he did. He then fixed it so that it wouldn’t happen again.
That’s my Valentine’s present. Cost – about $1 in parts that were kicking around our garage and about 45 minutes of his time. Value – well, I like my independence, made possible by my car and Brad doesn’t have to get up earlier than he would prefer to take me to work and then quit work earlier than he would prefer to come drive me home. So there’s the whole marital peace angle. That’s love rather than consumerism. He gave me something I needed rather than something I might not even want.
The flowers will be dried up and thrown away in a week. A working car can be around for a good long while.
aurorawatcherak 
Valentines and consumerism – yes, hand in glove. My friend goes to the Hallmark aisle with her husband. They both pick out a card with a wonderful message. They exchange cards, read it and put the cards back on the rack.
Her comment is, “Why buy it, take it home and then throw it away a few days later?”
However, any card her nieces, nephews and grandchildren make she keeps and savours.
LikeLike
My husband gave me one Valentine’s card I have kept for years. He was working in a remote camp and the wife of owners (that sounds funny, but she was an owner and married to the other owner) was a scrapbooker. She invited the guys to make cards for their sweeties. My husband thought it was funny because it was him and this huge linebacker-sized black guy. It’s got imperfections — the stamping was obviously done by someone who hadn’t done a lot of stamping and his message to me has a comma where it isn’t needed, but it was something he did himself, that he spent time doing and that was actually kind of hard for him. And, he snapped a photo of the linebacker coworker’s hands as he was punching paper lace. I sure hope that guy’s sweetheart appreciated his efforts to send her a hand-made card. It was like a giant playing with children’s toys.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is no substitute for the time and effort and the affection that goes into a home-made card. Love it.
LikeLiked by 1 person