Sunday, February 07, 2010, 03:52
Antique Valentines
I went to a presentation about antique Valentines at the local senior citizens center this week to cover it for the newspaper and to get some pictures of the Valentines.
In years gone by, people used to send Valentine cards to their friends, family members, neighbors -- not to mention their sweethearts.
The Valentines from a bygone era were lovely. They were often quite elaborate creations of lace and silk and satin with flowers and Lovebirds and hearts and beautiful verses on the inside. They reflected what was going on in society, too. There was one Valentine that a father had sent to his young daughter while he was going off to World War II. The Valentine depicted a troop train. I cannot help but wonder if the sender of that Valentine made it back home to his little girl.
People do not send Valentines that way anymore, it seems to me. Have we become so rushed and "busy" in our modern society that we think we do not have the time to let those closest to us know that we love and appreciate them?
It also seems to me, with the hurried busy-ness we engage in today, that something vital has been lost. Not just the Valentines themselves, but the slower pace of contemplation about those who are closest to us. We have lost, too, the pleasure of giving and receiving such a simple token of letting someone else know that he or she means something to us.
When I think about those beautiful Valentines, I feel almost a hollowness inside, a yearning for a time when life was *lived* and not merely rushed through from day to day, as if we have embarked on a race to see who can use their lives up the most quickly.
I ask you -- what are we racing toward? The end of the day? The end of the week? The end of the month? The end of our lives here on earth?
It also seems to me that the cheap and cheaply mass-produced Valentines have had something to do with the decline of Valentines in our lives. There doesn't seem to be much point in sending something to someone of which there are thousands of others just like it across the country.
And then there's the expense. A good-quality card can cost almost $4 or even more than $4. If you bought 10 of them to send out to friends and family, and along with the postage, you would have spent $50 on the endeavor.
So now we have come to the time when people e-mail "cards" to each other from those online places. Sure, some of them are clever, but what are they really? Only fleeting images on a screen.
With all of the e-cards flying through cyberspace, what will someone have to display a hundred years from now at an antique Valentines presentation?
People who concern themselves with such things are already worrying that in the future it will be much more difficult to write biographies of people because so much correspondence is now sent by e-mail and text message. Biographers will not have those long handwritten letters that discussed current events and politics and daily occurrences from which to gather information.
I did, however, find a sense of hope in the antique Valentine presentation. Two women showed their Valentines and talked about them, and both women noted that since making cards has now become such a popular hobby, handmade Valentines are once again being made and sent. At least by a few people, anyway.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Tuesday, February 02, 2010, 06:45
A Day to Celebrate
I can hardly believe it! I made it through January -- the longest month of the year.
Now why is it that January seems so long? Other months have 31 days, too. March for instance. And May. And July. (Not to mention August, October and December.)
The other months, however, do not seem nearly as long as January. I suppose it might have something to do with the frenzy we call December. We rush around doing all of the things for Christmas that we believe we must do (shopping, baking, wrapping gifts, cleaning the house, making big meals, entertaining guests), and then after January 1, it all stops abruptly. The combination of cold temperatures and nothing particularly special going on must be what makes the month drag by more than it would otherwise.
At any rate, Sunday evening, Randy and I walked to the end of the hayfield. I haven't done that in a couple of months. But after the rain we've had and the below zero temperatures, the snow covering the hayfield is frozen solid.
Pixie went with us. We went for a walk along the hayfield Friday evening, too, and Pixie accompanied us then as well. She loves to run around out in the hayfield. There's no grass for her to snoop around in now, but she still loves to get out and run. I have not been taking her out on the leash for walks lately because it has been so cold and because it is so icy. The ice might not bother Pixie too much, but it's hard and dangerous going for me.
I enjoyed the walks in the hayfield immensely. It is such a luxury to be able to walk without worrying about glare ice under your feet. It's only a half a mile down the hayfield and back, but what a glorious half mile.
We went for our hayfield walks right after sunset. And what a miracle the sunset is. At 5:30 now, only a month after Christmas, it is as light as it was a month ago at 4:30. In the course of a month, we have gained an hour of daylight.
Friday and Sunday evenings, the sky was tinged with brilliant orange and pink and purple where the sun had set. The bright colors faded to light blue, and then finally, directly east, the sky was a dark, almost royal blue. The black tree branches were silhouetted against the sunset sky, and the whole landscape was backlit by the white of the snow.
As we walked along,our boots made crunching noises, but at the same time, the sound of our footsteps was hollow. The snow is more like ice with the rain that filtered down through it.
Sunday afternoon we went to town because I needed some dry kitty food. And while I was ready to celebrate the end of January, I am not sure I was *quite* so ready to celebrate as the displays in the farm supply store. I could hardly believe my eyes that they have put garden seeds out along with an assortment of small tent-like greenhouses.
The garden seeds seemed like a cruel touch to me. Yes, we made it through January, but it is going to be another three months before I can think about planting the garden again.
But what made the garden display seem even more bizarre is that the garden seeds were placed right next to. . .
. . .the discount Christmas items -- ornaments, fake plastic wreaths and an assortment of Christmas wrapping paper.
The sense of being out of step with time intensified as we rounded the corner and found. . .Valentine's candy. Now I ask you. How are we supposed to know what part of the year we're in? Garden seeds. Christmas items. Valentine's candy.
Never mind. It is enough that January is finished. As my sister said when I talked to her the other day, "We shouldn't wish our life away wishing for a month to be gone, but I won't mind when January is past."
Amen to that.
LeAnn R. Ralph