A slow opening at the City Hall cafe gave me a chance to sit for a few minutes with one of my customers and write up some Valentine cards. Valentine's Day suddenly becomes really fun when you've stumbled upon really beautiful vintage cards that were designed nearly a century ago. Never mind that I had no one in mind to give them to at the time of purchase.

"Love heels", one of the cards was entitled-- the one that was cut into the shape of a ladies high heel shoe--, but love also wounds. Take that. I've been classically unlucky in love so far. I could go out of my way and actually try to find someone special, but I don't have the heart to put in such effort presently-- whether this lack of motivation stems from suspicion, defensiveness, fear, or some other deep, dark psychoanalytic well,...it is what it is. I will stumble upon the various threads of my fate just as I stumbled upon these beautiful cards.

And just as I purchased these ephemera greeting cards with no particular receiver in mind, I also purchased a bottle of sparkling cider with no one in mind to drink it with. I bought the cider because I tasted a sample of it at the grocery, and as it fizzled down my throat, it threw me back to summer days, to warmth and tranquility. And so I threw down 10% of my day's tips and purchased a bottle of this liquid summer, which now sits in my fridge awaiting to relieve a soul parched by a long winter.