I was talking to a friend earlier about her valentine experiences and remembered an incident from about thirty years ago…
It was a cold, clear Valentines day morning. I’d got up to go to work, and as I stepped outside I found a red rose on my doorstep. It wasn’t wrapped in cellophane or paper. It was a long stemmed rose. Deep scarlet. Beautiful, slightly starting to wilt. I looked up and down the street, no one around. We were in a terraced house, so the door opened down a step straight onto the pavement. Anyone could have left it there.
I went inside and asked my then boyfriend, later to be hubby, if he had put it on the step. But he said no. I quizzed him, but no it was not him. To be honest it wasn’t his style, he rarely knows when it’s valentines day and usually only gets me a card if I get him one. He was as surprised as I was but said I should take it as a compliment!
So I had this beautiful rose. I cut the stem at an angle and it in a pint glass while I went out to do my shift at work.
But I couldn’t concentrate. All morning I thought about who could have left it? It might have been a neighbour. It might have been a friend, but I had no idea that anyone had romantic thoughts about me. My inner Miss Marple told me that it couldn’t have been there long and that it must have been bought from the nearby florists as no roses were in flower at that time of year. There are roses growing on the factory opposite our house, but they were bare stems.
Who? That was my thought. Whoever it was must have known I was in a long term relationship? Why? Did they think I was looking for someone new? The answer to that was no….
Eventually I decided that the rose must have been for someone else. Perhaps the anonymous person had mistaken my doorstep for someone else’s?
I will never know. It never happened again. The next year I felt disappointed. Since then I have rarely remembered it. Only today’s chat reawakened the memory for me.
At 11pm tonight Britain moves into the transition period of Brexit, we will still be a member of the European Union until later this year when negotiations are completed, but as far as our government is concerned we are OUT. Not all of us are happy that celebrations are taking place tonight. A crowd funding plea was started to pay £500,000 to arrange for Big Ben to ring 11 times to welcome in the change. That’s about £45,000 a bong! But it didn’t collect enough money. I wonder who gets to keep it? If the government was so keen why not pay for it themselves. Oh I forgot to say the Conservative party, who recently won the general election, is stuffed with Millionaires.
Fifty Two percent of those that voted in the Brexit referendum chose to leave. But forty eight percent said no. I’m one of them. Brexit is not in my name. I get fed up of being called a ‘remoaner’ and being told ‘get over it’. I can see how all this is affecting my European friends. I’m wondering how it will all turn out. I have also seen tea towels and mugs for sale from the Conservatives, I don’t know why they think people will buy them? Our Prime Minister keeps telling us to be optimistic. He promised and end to austerity before the election, now they have announced at least five percent cuts! They are able to do this because they have a massive majority in parliament.
So what do I think? Brexit is a massive waste of money and irrelevant. We should be concentrating on climate change, not throwing away a treaty that had lasted almost fifty years.
Perhaps if I read this in a year things will be OK, but I doubt it.
Seen on a walk in 2018.
Dont let me in,
You walled up your heart,
there is a gate
But you locked it shut.
I sat, waiting for you
Asking to be let in,
But you said no.
You said go.
You locked me out
And threw away the key.
She cries quietly in a corner, there is no violence, no words to cut, no cruelty to endure. But she can see the changes. She can see the hesitation in his words, the slight tremor in his voice. Age is wearing him away more quickly than they had hoped. She was almost a decade younger than him. Would she retire and be able to spend quality time with him, or would it be too late to have a life. One where they could be together like they once were, reading each others thoughts, finishing each others words.
It’s been a few years, but each day he has drifted into his own mind and out of reality. Falling deeper into despair and dragging her down too.
That’s why she cried.