This in honor of Chaucer, who, it is said, (by Wikipedia,) first began the association of St. Valentine's day with the notion of romantic love. I don't think I could completely recall what it felt like to be in love when I was fifteen, the age King Richard II of England and Anne of Bohemia were when they wed in 1382 and Chaucer wrote that poem about them. Chaucer didn't write a poem about Roy and Diane, when we were fifteen, but that's only because he didn't know us.
The post stops here, because, like Halloween, this is a scary day, and right now grade school kids are riffling through the giant envelopes they constructed and taped to the backs of their chairs, looking for the valentine from that special person. And I hope you all find yours.
3 comments:
I like that you admitted it was scary. That's brave. I HATE MEN WHO WHINE ABOUT VDAY!! I also am annoyed with women who pretend they "don't care" about Vday to please some jerk -- because I was one of those women and it sucked. Plus it failed to stop the whining. Anyway. I just bought myself a heart-shaped cookie with chocolate frosting and sprinkles. And ate it at my desk. And it was good. :)
-Paula
I don't recall that Richard II and his wife were so poem-worthy anyway. Happy V-day. :)
True. Probably find better teary love poem fodder among the commoners.
Paula, I believe we made it, and the good news is there is NOTHING to whine about on the upcoming president's day!
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