It’s the LOVE MONTH!
A year ago this month, by grandma passed away. I remember seeing Valentine’s Day items on the clearance shelves and having a hard time remembering if our family had even acknowledged that it happened. When life goes upside down, holidays are not so front-and-center.
This year, I’m prepping for the anthology workshop, and with general life stuff, the LOVE MONTH crept onto the grid that is February once again. Without my permission.
And I realized it snuck up on me after I’d already chosen Shortages for February’s free fiction. Shortages isn’t a love story… it’s more of a drama, and if love did come, it came too late kind of a deal.
At any rate, as I looked through my choices for the blog, I realized I haven’t written any feel-good LOVE MONTH stories. I have dad-kills-the-boyfriend stories. I have retired-detective-loves-his-zoo-job stories. I have a light alien “romance,” but those two other-worldly dorks haven’t figured out how to live among the humans yet, and so Conrad and Coral will stay locked in my “someday” vault until I clean them up a bit.
And I have a woman-meets-stray-cat story, but that could go south fast if I were to tag it with a Valentine theme.
In the truest sense of the romance genre boy-meets-girl stuff, I got pretty much zip.
And I’ve no desire to write one.
Maybe because I’m perfectly contended and in love with my man. He’s cute, he’s corny. He’s been mine for nearly 25 years. The meet-cutes in romances and love story “catch me if you cans” just don’t do it for me. Can’t seem to make them feel real. I got the real deal. And I’m perfectly happy with him.
Got two kids I love dearly.
Got the mothers and the aunts and uncles. Love them too.
Got great friends that keep me centered. Love them.
Got three rescue fur babies that I love. (And don’t tell the humans, but given the day and the drama, sometimes I like the furries better. Don’t get all condescending on me—you know that person that popped into your head—the one where you’d rather bathe your skunk-sprayed dog in a galvanized tub of ice water stripped to your skivvies on a snowy day than meet them for dinner. You love them bunches, but like is in another ballpark.)
Got a job I don’t hate.
Got a hobby that I love that could very well take over the job I don’t hate.
I’m blessed and contented. God is good. And isn’t that at the base of all true love?
I digress from the sappiness (and my INTJ-ness doesn’t do sappy-ness well, so that may be another reason I’m short on the LOVE MONTH tales. CREEPY MONTH tales? I could conjure those up all day long).
Look around at what you love. If you’re cynical enough to believe you don’t love anything, look around at what you don’t hate.
If you have the eyes and capacity to read this rambling sap of a post, you are, at the very least, blessed.