Spring Has Totally Sprung

It has officially been spring for two months. So... I may be a little behind schedule posting about spring, but better late than never!

First of all, spring means it's been a busy time in the garden. Here was an end-of-winter harvest for dinner one night, sometime back in early March. I had overwintered beets, arugula, kale, green onions, and also grown oyster mushrooms in the basement.

I pulled out the brassicas that were bolting, such as kale and brussel sprouts. But not before taking advantage of their little buds before they opened into flowers. I don't know why we don't eat these commonly, but they are really similar to broccoli raab and quite delicious. There are people who say you don't want to eat the leaves of kale and other plants after they bolt since they turn bitter, but I think you'd be hard-pressed to find any one who could taste the difference between bolted kale leaves sauteed in a dish.

Speaking of less-common veggies, I also harvested a bunch of stinging nettles. Once steamed, the leaves lose their sting and are incredibly nutritious, versatile, and tasty spring greens. I made pesto, and also a nettle-spinach spanakopita with a bunch of fresh mint from the garden.

Around the same time, the Smitten Kitchen blog had a recipe for very green and fresh Spring Vegetable Potstickers. I had never made potstickers before, but as she wrote, folding them is pretty intuitive and they turned out great.

A few weeks back I went a little crazy with rhubarb at the Ballard Farmer's Market, which left me wanting to explore new rhubarb dishes. Again from Smitten Kitchen, I found this fabulous recipe for Rhubarb Streusel Muffins which I made twice. 

There was also Rhubarb-Apple Crisp, a nice change from the usual strawberries. The most unique thing I did with those stalks though was to add sugar, water, a vanilla bean, cinnamon stick, and cardamon pod, simmer and reduce it into a sauce. Then I strained the liquid off and added club soda and vanilla ice cream for a Rhubarb Float. The chunky remainder of the sauce went on yogurt. So simple, but such a good idea!

I'm almost ashamed to admit this, but I had no idea until this past month that Ballard has a handful of awesome nano breweries. I made up for lost time by visiting several, including NW Peaks, Reubens Brews, and Peddler Brewing Co. I had an amazing oak barrel aged saison at Hilliards.

Last but not least, I saw this pig going through a coffee drive-through. 

Enchanted Valley

It's been an amazingly warm and sunny spring in Seattle. As soon as the weather got nice, I started getting antsy to get out of town and into the woods. It's still early for any higher elevation snow-free backpacking, but the Olympics are always a good bet for valley rainforest and coastal hikes. My sweetie suggested a weekend backpack to Enchanted Valley in Olympic National Park- 13.5 miles one-way to get to a valley with steep sides, numerous waterfalls, and an old forest-service cabin. It would be a decent amount of mileage but not much elevation gain, and the trail was snow free, so we decided to go for it!

Saturday began with breakfast on the edge of Lake Quinalt- coffee, egg breakfast sandwiches, and homemade yogurt panna cotta with the waves lapping on the shore.

Then we drove east another half hour or so to the trailhead. It started out as a typical beautiful Olympic hike- constant river sound, glowing moss, huge old-growth cedars, humid air, sculptural exposed root balls, and lots of little critters.

There were also a ton of creek crossings. Some had logs as bridges, and some were shallow enough to stone-step across in boots. But there were two crossings that were pretty dicey- either the bridge had washed out or the water level was higher than usual. There was really nothing to do but ford the ice-cold river. Luckily, we both had brought sandals, but even then the varying water depth and strong current made for a pretty sketchy crossing. We passed a couple people on the trail who had fallen in and saw several pairs of wet boots.

Also, after about six miles in, it became evident that no trail crew had done any maintenance yet after winter storms. The trail was in pretty rough shape. There were huge fallen trees constantly that we either had to go under, over, or around. In other spots there were piles of branches and debris. In one place there was a sign that said "Please Close Gate" but the gate had clearly been demolished by falling limbs and there was just a hole left in its place.

We knew there were remnants of an avalanche from a few weeks back from trail reports and the ranger. The mass of snow had melted considerably and was now melting holes into the river.

I have never seen a bear in the wild and really wanted to see one on this trail. Toward the late afternoon, we came across this guy! When he saw us he took off up the hillside. Later we saw another bear that was busy eating and didn't want to seem to leave his spot, and then on Sunday we saw a third! 

It was a gorgeous and varied trail altogether, with the early-season factors like high rivers and trail condition making it that much more epic. The icing on the cake was reaching the valley that evening, and getting to sleep in such a stunning and lush place. It felt like something out of Lord of The Rings, like we had truly stepped into another world or time.

The warm dry weather left shortly after we ate dinner, and all night it poured rain. In the morning, it was misty and wet, cool but not too cold. We made breakfast under the cover of the forest service cabin porch. Then we headed out back down the trail, in the rain but in good spirits. 

Round Two for Beekeeping

One year ago, I started my first hive of honeybees, making for a fun and challenging and fascinating spring and summer of figuring out how to be a beekeeper. I winterized the hive and closed it up in October, but unfortunately the hive didn't make it.

It was very disheartening, but losing hives is sadly par for the course. So I decided to try again this year, going for round two and two hives. I got my packages from the Ballard Bee Company, who pick up over 250 packages in California and bring them back to Seattle on a custom trailer. By the time I got to his house to get my bees, there was just this pile remaining. Just this pile of about a million bees.

I got one package of Italian honeybees, which is what I had last year, and one German variety called Carniolan. These varieties are the most popular for backyard beekeepers as they are both gentle and well-suited to the Pacific Northwest climate. The bees come as 3 pounds, which is roughly 10,000 bees. There is also a canister of sugar water for them to eat and one mated queen inside a little queen cage.

A couple friends came over as moral support and assistants for the install process.

It's important to get the bees out of the travel package and into their new home as soon as possible so they don't get too stressed. I started with the Italians, taking the sugar water canister out and removing the metal wire with the queen cage.

Only, there was no cage attached to the wire! I stared in shock at the lone metal wire as I replaced the canister so bees would not escape. Somehow in the transport process, the cage had broken free, and now as I looked into the package, I knew the queen was down there, not visible, under the pile of thousands of bees.

I didn't know what to do. It was one of those moments where I wanted to slough this problem onto some one else. Let some one more experienced take over. I imagine that is often what it is like to be a parent- not knowing what the right answer is, but knowing that you are the only one who can deal with something so you better step up. I sent a friend inside the house to get tongs, and decided to just try to find the cage that way. It took a few tries, more bees escaping than usual, and a good bit of adrenaline, but I eventually got her cage out!

Here's the Italian queen, alive and well.

We taped the wire to the cage and then I very carefully removed the cork stopper and replaced it with a marshmallow before putting the queen in the hive.

Then I dumped the rest of the bees inside, put on the cover, and left the package sitting open by the entrance where the stragglers would eventually find their way to their new home. You can see that the travel box still has quite a few bees inside. When I came out the next day, EVERY bee was gone. That means the dead ones too. It's normal for a few bees to die in transit, so the living bees had removed their bodies. They are just crazy hygienic like that. So cool.

Four days later, I checked to make sure the bees had eaten the marshmallow and queen was out of her cage. I saw both queens, alive and well. Here you can see her, larger than the worker bees and marked with a red dot. The official dot color changes each year, so apparently 2013 is red. Now the goal is to see the queen start laying eggs!

Bad News For the Little Ladies

In the dark, damp winters of the pacific northwest, I think we are all trying to just make it through until spring. It's the same for the bees- they work hard all spring and summer making honey because they are going to hole up most of the fall and winter once the flower nectar is gone. They don't hibernate, but they generally don't leave the hive when it's below 54 degrees outside. Instead, they cluster together in a ball and fan their wings to generate heat, keeping the inside of the hive a toasty 93 degrees. So once the cooler weather came last October, I did what I could to prep the hive for winter, closed the lid, and hoped for the best.

Since you can't open the hive when it's cold, you just have to observe what you can from the outside. I started seeing a lot of dead bees in front of the hive, which is normal. Their population gets up to 50,000 or more at the height of summer, then will drop back down to around 20,000 in the low of winter, and these hygienic little creatures will not leave dead bodies inside the hive. I also noticed mold on the untreated wood of the inner cover. I put sticks in between the inner and outer cover to prop it up and create some ventilation. I drilled holes in the bottom screen board and slightly tilted the whole hive forward in case there was any condensation that needed to escape.

But by the sunny days in February and March, I wasn't seeing any activity at all- no solitary scout bees out flying, no new dead bees outside the entrance. When I finally peeked inside on one of our warmer late-winter days, I was devastated to find that the colony had not survived. It was terrible. There were petrified bees half-inside the comb cells, and a pile of dead bees on the screened bottom. There was larva half-developed that had turned to a stinky caramely goo. It was like a bee horror movie.

When I told friends over the last few weeks about the loss, they usually ask, "Why did they die?" Ha, that is the million-dollar question! It's hard to say exactly. I know my hive had a lot of moisture in it and subsequent mold, but I'm not sure how much that may have weakened them. I already have a plan for a few things I would do differently next fall in winterizing the hive. What I do know is that it was a really hard winter for bees in general. Many experienced beekeepers that I talked to lost a shocking number of hives this winter.

There's been a lot of coverage in the news over the past few years about Colony Collapse Disorder and the dwindling numbers and vitality of many kinds of bees. For decades it's been a mystery, with many factors being considered. In the Global Research article Genetically Modified Crops and the Decline of Bee Colonies in North America originally published in 2008, scientists looked at the possibility of Varroa mites, parasites, cell phones, and genetically engineered "terminator seeds" as culprits. They concluded at that time that genetically engineered crops were the biggest problem. Also, a nifty US crop pollination chart:

However, it wasn't until about a year ago that more conclusive evidence started coming out linking agricultural pesticides to the disappearing bees. At the end of March last year, the New York Times published an article about bees and neonicotinoids, which wikipedia describes as "a class of neuro-active insecticides chemically related to nicotine. The development of this class of insecticides began with work in the 1980's by Shell, and the 1990's by Bayer... Neonicotinoids are the first class of new insecticides introduced in the last 50 years, and the neonicotinoid imidacloprid is currently the most widely used insecticide in the world." 

In that article, Two Studies Point to Common Pesticide as a Culprit in Declining Bee Colonies, it says, "The authors of both studies contend that the results raise serious questions about the use of pesticides, known as neonicitinoids." It goes on to say, "But pesticides are only one of several likely factors that scientists have linked to declining bee populations. There are simply fewer flowers, for example, thanks to land development. Bees are increasingly succumbing to mites, viruses, fungi, and pathogens."

So we finally are starting to get a handle on the causes of the bee epidemic, namely genetically engineered crops and insecticides. But there needs to be a lot more research.  Research should probably not be conducted by one of the largest producers of pesticides and GE seeds, right?! But in April 2012, there were reports of just that when Monsanto Buys Bee Research Company.

Here is another good one from September of last year, Bee Deviled: Causes of Colony Collapse Disorder. Author Annie Spiegelman writes, "If you're not a huge fan of the bee, why should this matter to you? Well, if you like to eat food, you should be concerned. Besides gathering nectar to produce honey, bees pollinate agricultural crops, home gardens, orchards and wildlife habitat... It's estimated that about one-third of the human diet is derived from insect-pollinated plants, and three-quarters of all plants on the planet depend on insects or animals for pollination." She goes on to interview the co-director of the Pesticide Action Network about neonicotinoids.

Then February rolled around, when beekeepers from every U.S. state drive millions of hives to California to help with the largest pollination effort in the world. Any idea what crop that is for? You could probably guess from the chart above: Almonds. But this was an unprecedentedly terrible year for commercial beekeepers losing hives. Before Colony Collapse, it was normal to lose 5-10% of your hives. Then by 2005, one-third losses were becoming the norm. But this winter, it was up to 40-50%. This is a recent article from a few weeks ago specifically about this issue, Mystery Malady Kills More Bees.

And in early April this same issue of the massive pollination fail for almonds in California was addressed in Dan Rather's "Buzzkill". If you don't read any of the other articles in this blog post, I would HIGHLY recommend watching this informative segment. It's about 50 minutes long but good all the way through. And I couldn't help but think: buy almonds now. My prediction is that the price will skyrocket soon as this was the first year without enough bees to pollinate and the harvest will surely be much smaller than usual.

So, that's my attempt to answer the question as to why my bees died this year. Both backyard and commercial beekeepers are looking at a one-third loss as standard for any year. In fact, the beekeeper/supplier I bought my equipment from recommends starting with three hives since you will probably lose one. Last year it felt like a bit of a financial and time investment to have more than one hive as a new beekeeper, but this year I feel ready to add a second hive. So two new packages of bees will be arriving in two weeks!

My final thought is that we are finally seeing the bee decline as a real problem, and with some nameable causes can take steps to prevent further damage to the honeybee population. This article came out just a couple days ago about a supermarket in the UK banning any of their produce suppliers from using neonicitinoid pesticides. Sure, it may be only one grocery chain, and not even in the United States, but it definitely shows a growing awareness and a step in the right direction.

One Year House-Aversary

Many of my friends were skeptical. "You'll be bored of living in Seattle in three months, and off on another adventure!" they said. But two winters ago, I knew I was ready to stay in one place for awhile. And I knew that place was the fair city where I was born. So I looked for a rental... and looked, and looked. It took about three and a half months and viewing maybe a dozen places, but I finally found the right spot. Today marks the one year anniversary of moving into this home. And you know what else? That is the longest I've lived in one spot in TWELVE years. 

And I could not be more grateful. One year later, I'm not looking to move. I feel like I've just scratched the surface of the city. And I love my roommates more than ever. First of all there is Simon, who is like a brother. He gives me an excited greeting when I get home, and always has time to chat. We often stand in the back yard together and talk about our visions for the place as I drink a beer and he offers tools and know-how. One night awhile back I got home after a sad break-up talk with my then-boyfriend, and Simon knew something was wrong. He gave me a big, long hug then said brightly, "Hey, want to go out for Chinese food?" Yes, yes I did. 

Then there is Loren, who I think of more as the uncle of the house, and is the most awesome roommate in terms of outdoor gear. Last year when I was getting ready to hike up to Camp Muir and buy a pair of gaiters, he was like, "Wait, I have an extra pair of women's gaiters you can have!" A couple months ago I was on my way out the door to hike Mt. Si and he was like,"Have you ever used Yak Trax? Here, borrow these for the snow at the top!" He is also great about helping me with bike stuff, like tuning up my mountain bike before Burning Man as well as the road bike I just got.

Sara is my fellow lady roomie, and she is a funny and creative force to be reckoned with. She is a fabulous story-teller. She bakes amazing cakes and cans sauces and pickles and makes her own bitters. Once she spent hours making and reducing a 3-part classic French sauce, finally eating it after 10pm. The next day, I told her I was having a friend over for dinner and didn't have a plan of what to make. "Use the rest of my sauce in the fridge!" she insisted. Wait, really? Right before St. Patrick's Day she said, "I'm going to a party and want to wear a green dress, but I don't have one." So instead of just buying one, she went to the fabric store and came home and sewed a beautiful spring dress in a day.

All three of these folks are so respectful, generous, tidy, laid-back, and genuinely kind. We are often busy and do our own thing, but we also enjoy roommate time occasionally. This was our first backyard BBQ and fire of the season on the spring equinox, with a couple of friends over.

I also love living here with ample space for backyard projects. For all the farms and gardens that I've helped with, I've never had a garden space of my own for more than one growing season.

In fact, I got so zealous about growing veggies last summer that I ran out of space in the beds, and started a driveway container garden.

We also have a fire pit, giant trampoline, carport, roses, compost piles, chicken coop and run, and a tucked-away corner to keep my beehive out of the way.

Heck, with one year here under my belt, maybe I'll go for two! I can't see any reason to leave any time soon.

Brother's Birthday

Last week my youngest brother turned 22. Every year on Joe's birthday, I feel especially grateful that he is alive, because when he was 14, we almost lost him. He got hit by a car while crossing the street and suffered a severe traumatic brain injury. He was in a coma for a month, and even after he woke up, had to do months of intensive therapy to walk and talk again. I wrote a bit about the whole situation last year on his 21st birthday and also shared some news articles from that time.

Maybe it seems strange to talk about his brain injury after almost seven and a half years, but the thing is, he still has it and he is still changing and healing. His personality, medical concerns, and struggles are different every few months. Occasionally my friends will ask, "How's your brother?" which I appreciate for that exact reason- it's always changing! But it's a hard question to answer. There is no standard for which to measure his "progress". Where is he trying to get to? For someone whose brain damage was so severe that neurologists said he might be unresponsive and in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, isn't anything more than that a success? Is the goal for him to live independently, or just be happy? Brain injury is not like a disease that can be medicated, or a tumor that can be removed. It is a permanent, elusive issue that science and modern medicine still grapple with.

But there is definitely a lot of good to share, even in the last year. Like any young man going from 21 to 22, he has matured noticeably. He is waaaaaay more appropriate with women. He writes little essays about what makes life worthwhile. He has worked at the same golf store successfully for two years, originally placed in a mentored employment program through Children's Hospital. He still has frequent seizures, though most the time they are mild and he can feel them coming, and lay down and call for immediate help (usually our parents).

Of course, there are still hard and terrifying moments. He is not always treated kindly by strangers or acquaintances. He can be very confrontational with authority figures and law enforcement and is often on the verge of getting himself into trouble. Also, while his seizures have become more frequent but less severe, he will occasionally have a really bad one. A few months back we were at my mom's house for my niece's 4th birthday party, and a bunch of little kids were playing in the backyard on the sunny day. Joe started having a seizure.... and it just went on, and on, and on. My parents, sister, and I were huddled around him, waiting for it to stop, desperately looking at each other's faces for the point when long was too long. It was like the air went stale and music had stopped. Joe's nose started turning purple and he seemed too far away and wasn't coming back to us. "Yeah, now is time to call the paramedics," we agreed. It was the most terrifying moments I've felt in years, like I was falling. I felt absolutely sick watching a seizure last so long.

I went out front to meet the ambulance, and by the time they got to him, he was in a weird half-seizing/half-agitated state that I have never seen before. He was thrashing and fighting some invisible force. They ended up taking him to Northwest Hospital and heavily sedating him before running all sorts of tests. They never concluded what had triggered such a massive seizure, so they sent him home and said that they had given him enough drugs to sedate a small elephant, and that he probably wouldn't be able to walk for awhile. However, in typical Joe fashion, he defied usual medical expectations and walked bleary-eyed up and down the stairs to his room.

The end of that summer, when Joe came out of his coma, I remember thinking it was like a rebirth. He had to learn to walk and talk again. He had to be completely taken care of and then slowly get more independence. He was literally like a new person. Different body, voice, personality. For a long time after the accident, I used to call his cell phone just to listen to the voice mail recorded message. It was his old voice, my only chance to hear it, and I missed it. I sometimes wonder what he would be like right now without a brain injury, if the accident had never happened to that teenage boy just trying to cross the street. I wonder, but not for too long. I mostly try to celebrate the wonderful Joe that is still here with us.

Food, Gardens, Shows

It's March. It's March! We are getting an unusual warm front and it feels like spring is really on the way. But before I get all excited about spring, I have to mention a few cool events from the past couple weeks.

First, there was Valentine's Day dinner. My honey and I went downtown to the Hand of God Wines tasting room where they have a dining room for special events. Dinner was an amazing 10-course meal paired with their own red wine as well as some outside white wines and prosecco. Some things we ate: fava bean and cauliflower puree with ceviche scallops, Belgian endives with fennel salmon vodka gravlax, wilted lemon spinach with Malbec and honey drunken figs, bay leaf, cinnamon, and peppercorn.
(Next three photos by Matt Freedman)

It was catered by James Beard award-winning chef Tiberio, who also happens to be my friend and neighbor. He won the James Beard award for his dessert Decadent Crunch Crush and Dolce Mocha. I've eaten with Tiberio enough that he remembered I have an allergy to tree nuts. The dessert is made with hazelnuts, but for this dinner he made a special batch of his amazing dessert with peanuts instead, just for me. It was hands-down the sweetest gesture any one could have done for me on Valentine's Day.

Then that weekend, I went to a surprise birthday party for my cousin in Woodinville. Her sister drove over from Idaho, her two brothers flew in from Austin, and her partner did a stellar job keeping it all a secret, so it was quite the awesome surprise. They are all some of my favorite cousins, plus there were sparkly props and accessories, and lots of cute little kids, making for a great party.

The kids ran around the yard and played while the adults assembled hand-made pizzas and a big salad. Every one came inside just in time for a huge rain storm that turned to hail.

In the evening, I went to my first show at FRED Wildlife Refuge on Capitol Hill. Aptly named  Fhysical Graffiti, the show was an energetic, unique performance of music, dance, group aerials, and video projections.

The next day I finally had the chance to try happy hour at Toulouse Petit which is hailed as one of the top ten Happy Hours in the nation. This elegant cajun/creole restaurant serves up dishes such as rustic duck and pisachio terrine, mussels with saffron and mustard, fried catfish with remoulade, buttermilk-fried chicken bites with tasso-black pepper gravy, spicy lamb sliders, and cajun boudin blanc to name a few. Everything we tried was really really good, though we left feeling a little heavy with all the oil. Then we strolled across the Seattle Center to Chihuly Garden and Glass to see the collection of his art displayed indoor and out.

The following week the Northwest Flower and Garden Show opened at the Convention Center. Being the 25th (silver) anniversary of the show, the theme this year was the Silver Screen. The landscaper I used to work for designed one of the display gardens- A Star Wars, Ewok village-themed edible forest. It was awesome. Apparently the judges of the show thought so too because it won a gold medal!

Besides the beautiful show gardens and multitude of vendors, the show offers all sorts of lectures. I was lucky enough to get to see Amy Stewart speak, aka the Drunken Botanist. Her book by the same title just came out, and she also has an info-packed website. The blurb about the book: "[she] explores the dizzying array of herbs, flowers, trees, fruits, and fungi that humans have, through ingenuity, inspiration, and sheer desperation, contrived to transform into alcohol."

She passed around various plants, talked about tinctures and infusions, and made a couple cocktails. I also got the brilliant idea from her of specifically planting a cocktail garden. Why have I never thought of that before?! So this summer if you come over to my house, I might not have zucchini or tomatoes or carrots, but I will mix you up a fabulous craft cocktail with fresh herbs. Yep, priorities.

Welcome Little 3rd Planet

My sister had a baby one week ago. She and her husband decided to wait to find out what the sex was. Not many people do that these days, and I seriously admire their willingness to wait and enjoy being surprised.

At work a few weeks ago, the Modest Mouse song "3rd Planet" came on. It's partly about getting pregnant and made me think of the little one we were anticipating.

"... Didn't know then was it a son was it a daughter.
When it occurred to me that the animals are swimming
around in the water in the oceans in our bodies and
Another had been found another ocean on the planet
given that our blood is just like the Atlantic..."

I love those lyrics, thinking of blood as oceans, babies as a new sea or planet. It reminds me of what is so precious about newborns- that they are tiny helpless humans, but immense and shiningly connected to something big and universal. So small and infinite at the same time. I think that's why we want to hold babies that aren't even ours.

My sister was in labor for about 30 hours, but finally on Wednesday afternoon a healthy baby girl was born. I went to the hospital to meet the tiny bundle just a few hours later. She is beautiful- none of that squishy alien newborn look- just clear skin and exuding serenity. Here she is less than 4 hours old.

The nurse did the footprints, and made an extra copy just for the baby's 4-year-old big sister.

Here is one set of proud grandparents.

I am so thankful both mom and baby are doing well. Can't wait to spend more time with this tiny planet who is already a gravitational force within our hearts.

Occupy Valentine's Day

This Valentine's Day marked 8 out of the last 10 years that I have spent the holiday working at a flower shop. What started as a few days of seasonal help blossomed into a decade of part- and full-time work, driving deliveries, bookkeeping, and learning to design floral arrangements. Even though the flower shop is in Bellingham and I live in Seattle, I can't stop myself from returning for the annual tradition of floral craziness.

(It's also a great excuse to visit old friends and try new restaurants that may have opened recently. I met up with a buddy and had a fantastic bowl of noodles in a konbu-bonito broth the new Dashi Noodle Bar. Besides being able to pick your meat, noodle type, and broth, they have an array of house-made condiments and accouterments for your bowl- kimchi, pickled radish, cilantro, soy water chestnuts, gingered bamboo shoots, etc. Then for lunch I had a real treat of getting to try the recently-opened Ciao Thyme's On.The.Side lunch-time cafe. It was a lovely respite in the middle of a busy day- pulled pork sandwich with spicy mayo, and Tunisian chicken salad with carrot-apple slaw, coriander vinaigrette, and house-made paneer cheese. Soooo good.)

So for most of my adult life, Valentine's Day has been characterized by creative work, good food, long hours, and spending time with dynamic, artistic women. Sure, there has been romance too- casual dates, boyfriends, singleness, dancing, circus shows, champagne picnics, burlesque. But in a way, the romantic side of the holiday seems an afterthought to the flowers. 

While I feel fairly neutral about the holiday, writer Anne Lamott is a little more opinionated. This piece was a Facebook status of hers last week, though I'm not sure if it was originally written for something else. Regardless, I love the sentiment and the reminder of radical self-love for any day of the year.

"We are all so pumped about Valentine's Day. You could cut the excitement around here with a knife.

My first plan was to celebrate by giving the kitty a flea dip, and overeating, but I think I've come up with a better idea.

Now, most of all us have some wonderful Valentine's Days over the years; or at least days that were not SO excruciating that we wanted to die. Which is at least a start. For instance, I had a wonderful man for seven years, who made me the most incredible little cards every year, but because he did not believe in climate science, or that there was any real difference between McCain and Obama, there were tiny tensions off and on the rest of the time.

I would estimate that approximately 17% of people enjoy Valentine's Day. Mostly, women will be given boxes of chocolates that they don't want and can't resist, and will be really mad at themselves for inhaling. Many people will be filled with resentment, anxiety, and guilt at having forgotten, or having shown up late, or having accidentally been having affairs with other people. Many people will feel a sheet-metal sense of loneliness and rejection. They will be comparing their insides with other people's outsides, especially those happy valentines actors in advertisements and commercials.

Most of the day, except for the lucky few, will be a nightmare.

So let's start an Occupy Valentine's Day movement.

Let's begin with the premise that another word for Valentine's Day is Thursday. And on Thursday, as an act of radical self-care, we will celebrate the miracle that a few people love us SO much, that we can go one, and bear up, no matter what; that even though they know the darkest, most human and intimate and disgusting stuff about us, they still love us. In fact, they love us more and more through the years. This is so wild, and is really my only hope. It is what salvation looks like. A handful of friends is the reason my faith in God is so deep. Because they ARE love; they (along with the dogs) are my most obvious connection to divine love in this joint, the looks of love on their faces.

Let's celebrate that all you need is love; and that God is Love and love is God; that Love will heal ALL, although unfortunately, maybe not on our time-- ie by Wednesday, right after lunch. But it will. When all is said and done, Love is sovereign on this earth. So let's go crazy with love on Thursday. If we want to be filled with loving feelings, all it takes is to do a bunch of loving things for others and ourselves. That's all it takes! You take the action, and the insight will follow-- that all you need is love. Crazy. We don't need to buy or be giving a single thing, and we don't need to eat anything we don't really want. We'll just give each other secret love gestures all day. Okay? You in?" (-Anne Lamott)