By Emily Bronte
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree —
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He still may leave thy garland green.
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I had a nice, low-key Valentine's Day starting with a quiet morning because Daniel wanted to sleep in. Eventually we dragged him out of bed and had him drive down the GW Parkway to the Columbia Island Marina with lovely view of the Pentagon, at which point Paul took over driving because the District doesn't let anyone without a DC learner's permit drive there. We went to the National Geographic museum to see the exhibits on sustainable food around the world and the huge predatory Cretaceous dinosaur Spinosaurus, both of which were excellent -- lots of short films and tactile exhibits, plus there were food samples at the former and a history of the dinosaur's discovery before the fossils at the latter).
We switched drivers again on the way home in the Theodore Roosevelt Island parking lot, unaware that the snow was supposed to start so early in the afternoon! So Daniel got some experience driving in a snowstorm, and we got about two inches on the ground -- beautiful fluffy snow that will be here for days because it's going to be very, very cold. We had delicious cheese fondue for dinner courtesy Paul, who made me the card below, and exchanged chocolates, then watched A Good Year, which Cheryl and I decided in chat was a really good Valentine's Day movie. Now I'm catching up on Nashville, which is leaping over sharks -- how does a woman with type O blood give birth to a daughter with AB blood?
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