I’ve never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day. I mean, I get the whole “used to be a pagan holiday” thing. Basically it was a tribute to one of their Pagan gods. The names of women would be put into a basket and they would be drawn by a teenage boy. It was sort of a dating/hook up lottery. Well obviously this did not go over well in the Christian church.
The church’s attempt to do away with it became a day associated with St. Valentine. He was beheaded by the Roman Emperor Claudius II , for performing marriages (Claudius had sort of banned them). Somehow the tradition of sending notes or offering notes to women men wanted to court in St Valentine’s name became the new tradition. I can get behind that. But I can’t get behind is what is has become.
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Every year I hear the same line, from men and women alike (though mostly men):
“Valentine’s Day is just a commercial holiday.”
Huh. It’s not that I disagree entirely; it’s just that I think there is a small bit of merit to celebrating the holiday. Sure, it’s sad that as a society we need to take one day out of the year to let our significant others know how much we love them. But life is busy. We forget to say “I love you.” We forget to make the people, especially the most special person, in our lives feel special. So there’s one day on the calendar reserved for that.
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As someone who loves shopping and going to the mall, you would never take me as the person to say that I would much rather do my Christmas shopping in small-town Ontario.
Every year for Christmas, my best friend and I make the trek to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario to do the bulk of our Christmas shopping. What is so special about NOTL is that it is a very small and quaint area, filled with Canadian history and tradition. The shops in the downtown core are unique and filled with things you would never find at a mall or outlet store.
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Posted in family on 05. May, 2006
It’s been months since I have worked on location anywhere. Traffic has been a wonderful rediscovery this week. There’s nothing like wasting $3.00 per gallon to drive twenty miles in order to work. I’m not complaining. Work is work. And Friday is the mark of reprieve. Regardless of whatever turmoil we have endured, Friday always saves the day. It is this special little day in which all is forgivable and hope is restored. Three evenings and two full days lie ahead, pregnant with possibility. What does the future hold? What will I do this weekend? I don’t even ask myself these questions most of the time because the weekend is just an addendum to the rest of the week. Today is an exception, however; one which calls for unique action. I think today I will do my best to make my wife’s desires a reality by helping her plant some flowers or shrubs in the front yard. She should get a treat for working so hard through adversity these past twelve months. I don’t tell her often enough how much she has blessed me. Yes, today is definitely shrub day. That will be it’s name.
I know it’s Cinco de Mayo, but I’m creating a holiday for my family. From here on, Shrub Day will be the first official Dessinger holiday, and we will have fun working together to cultivate our garden or improve on our landscaping. Sounds cheesy to some, I’m sure. So what! I’ve been complaining about our national holidays for too long without action. Let this be the first, if not the most unusual, of my family’s new holidays. We’ll celebrate the beauty of God’s creation and enjoy the work of our hands to shape something aesthetically pleasing. The term “Shrub Day” is, of course, subject to copyright and further legal action if copied… No, not really.
