The Holy Days of February

It's hard to be sure if Valentine's Day itself has any special power for me.

Three years ago when I met DH, we were instantly friends, but not instantly exclusive. That Valentine's day I exchanged music with one guy friend, and had another take me out to lunch, but the interactions with DH, through email though they were, really threw off sparks.

Back then DH lived at his dad's orange grove, affectionately called "The Ranch". Early February, being citrus season, meant I was gifted with fresh oranges on one of the random evenings I spent with him. Thus, when Neil Gaiman, beloved author, posted a poem involving oranges on Valentine's Day, I passed it and additional "thank you"s along to DH (of course, then he was just "Dear Friend"):

Roses are red,
Violets are purple,
Which is a very hard word to rhyme
And makes me happy that on February the 14th we don't traditionally have to give each other oranges

Soon enough he wrote back to me...

I'm so glad you liked them! I spent last night trying to think of something to write for you, but I just couldn't come up with anything. So I went and put your name [[replaced here with not-my-name]] through the Wesley Willis Song Generator. Hope you like.

Annie Light really whoops a donkey's ass.
You is so pretty.
You can really rock your ass off.
Annie Rush is excellent.
You are so good to me in the long run.

ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!

You are my special screaming hyena.
You can really rock Saddam Hussein's ass.
You really whoop a snow lepoard's ass.
You are so righteous in the Holy Ghost.
Annie Light really whoops a camel's ass.


ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!
ANNIE LIGHT!!!

About 57,700 people like Annie Light.
She makes the crowds roar like a sea monster.
I like Annie Light a lot.
Right on brother.
I like you well.

Rock over London,
Rock on Chicago.

Be a Pepper - drink Dr. Pepper.

Boy if that didn't make me head-over-heels giddy for him!!

The next day (February 15, 2006) I went back to the Ranch for "dinner, cider, a movie, and catching the sunset".

Yes, he cooked for me. No, it was not a date.

I'm sure it wasn't a date, you see, because we were watching the movie in a bedroom (his brother's... long story), and when I stretched out on the bed near DH, he shifted around so as to be sprawled in the opposite direction, head at the other end of the bed.

In retrospect he swore to me that it wasn't a conscious act, but one he regrets. I hadn't taken it personally (I don't take many things personally), the memory is merely a matter of great amusement for me.

Later that night, after the movie, after more talking, after it was time for me to trek back down to my mundane life at the bottom of the mountain, I said bid DH good night and got in my car. Maybe we hugged, maybe we didn't. I pulled out the long driveway, turned around in the street. As I shifted into gear to go down that long and winding road, DH caught my eye as he ran towards me. I rolled down my window.

The exact words he used to ask me on a date escape me, although I'd wager he didn't use the word "date". All DH asked was if I wanted to go out with him after he passed his driving test. I remember the way I smiled, the way I nodded and said "Yeah, sure", and grinned all the way down the hill.

In retrospect it may be strange that I choose to celebrate this day, February 15. Nothings began that day, but I suppose what started New Year's Eve reached a critical mass, a particular velocity and both DH and I knew it.