In which we don't celebrate the holiday with the candy hearts here

I've got a longtime complaint against Valentine's Day.

I figure, if the people that I love do not know that I love them, every day, every moment, then I've got problems that a bunch of flowers and candy hearts on the 14th of February is not even going to touch.

I've boycotted VD for years (although Jim, bless his delightful soul, continues to "end run" around me--he sent me flowers on February 13th, so I could be thrilled with the flowers and not cranky about Valentine's Day). 

Instead of Valentine's Day, here at Haiku Farm, we celebrate Story Day.

Story, 1987-2006.  photo by Jillian Zemenak

On February 14th, 1994, I bought my very first, very own horse.  She was a 7-year old nondescript brown-bay standardbred mare with a head like a boot-box and no talent whatsoever on the racetrack.  Her owner had abandoned her at the track, and she was expected to sell to the meat buyer at the end of the week;  I showed up the day before the meat truck, guided by a knowledgeable horse friend.

My friend picked out the mare, telling me that "that one won't leave you broken and bleeding on a mountainside."  The fact that the mare wasn't actually broken to saddle yet (and I had no expertise in that area) didn't worry my friend:  she could see to the heart of the mare, and the heart was solid gold.

A heart of solid gold is a thing worth celebrating.  If you've ever had a horse like that, you know what I mean.  If you've ever had a horse like that, raise up a carrot as a toast with me this evening.

Happy Story Day, everyone.