Another Valentine's Day has shuffled into existence, and I continue to be defiantly in favour of this entirely made-up celebration. And even if you generally view this day with cynicism or misery, there's at least one reason to smile this time around. What better Valentine's present could you give to a group of people than to tell them at long last they can marry whomever they like?
This year, The Other Half and I once again celebrated Valentine's Day a little early, much as we did Christmas - the price one pays for a long distance relationship with parents at opposite ends of the country. Rather than buy presents this year (both of us suffering from paranoia that we're terrible gift-choosers, though that's certainly not true of her, and there is evidence of this across the blog), we headed to a little studio in Leamington Spa where you can paint up pottery, and leave it to be glazed and fired. Hopefully by this time next week I'll have a dragon painted by TOH, and she'll have a mermaid daubed with pigment at random by my clumsy hands.
Anyway, happy Valentine's Day to those who want my blessing, and for everyone else, I hope the preparations for St Skeletor's Day are progressing apace. I'll leave you with my twisted idea of what constitutes a love song.