FLYING HIGH ON VALENTINE'S DAY

Instead of the usual Friday Funny video, I'd originally planned to simply share this cartoon from the cool folks at XKCD, with the comment, "Enough said."

Because I don't do Valentine's Day. Although I will admit that the huge pink and red satin heart valentine David Cassidy (alas, not the Partridge Family one) gave me in the 7th grade was cool, mostly because it made me appear pretty special when it was handed out during the class party. It also worked, because although I'd never paid that much attention to David before, I did agree to go to a Saturday afternoon movie with him.

But the entire day has always just seemed too commercial, so I gave up recognizing it years ago. (Though I have changed my myspace page and blog layout to hearts, because they're bright and pretty and a nice change from the winter snow pics.) This has probably made my husband one of the least stressed out guys in the country every February 14th, though he continues to ask me -- just in case -- if I'm sure I don't want at least a card. I always say no.

But this year, he went ahead and got me a present. But first a little backstory is in order. (Ha! You knew I couldn't do succinct, didn't you? LOL)

About twenty years ago, we were vacationing on Washington's Olympic peninsula's coast when I wandered into a kite shop and fell head over heels in love with a fifty-foot long Mylar dragon kite. For about fifteen years, I flew that kite, on a 3,000 foot- long string, on beaches all over the world. And once on the Washington Mall.

I could make it dive, soar, do somersaults, and often, when it would go sailing over neighborhoods of condos in California, I'd think that if it ever broke loose, it would take me ages to locate it on someone's roof. You have to feel gregarious when you fly a kite like this, because people always gather to watch. One elderly man even told my husband, "She's a lot better kite flier than you are." He immediately agreed.

Kites to me have always been wondrous. When I was growing up, I'd make diamond kites out of the colorful comics section of the Sunday newspaper; in NO REGRETS I had a child character send a message to her mother in heaven up a kite string; and I've already instructed my family that when I die, rather than a dreary memorial service, I want them all to get together and go fly a kite and think happy thoughts of me.

Then, about five years ago, we were at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where we'd spend a month or so every spring and fall. And, feeling generous, I asked my sweetie if he'd like to fly my kite. (He had one of his own, but it wasn't nearly as special.) At first he was worried he'd lose it, but I assured him it'd be okay.

Well -- and you can see this coming, can't you? -- he was right. Before he could even get it airborne, it got away from him, went sailing over a fence and landed on the only yucca tree on the beach! It was immediately torn to shreds. He was so devastated there was no way I could be angry. But I was admittedly sad. And, although I bought a replacement kite the next day, it was never the same. Unfortunately ones that size no longer seemed to exist.

What I didn't know was that he'd kept looking and had finally located one almost the same (just five feet shorter at 45 feet), online from Into The Wind

Two days ago, we were in the midst of a terrible storm. It was one of those storms where you turn on the weather radio and the automatic voice is telling you that it's a tornado watch, winds are sixty miles-per-hour with damaging hail and it has the potential of being deadly, so you should "Seek shelter now!"

Those always get my attention, so I unplugged my computer, put on some shoes, stuck my phone into the pocket of my jeans, and took the mirror off the powder room wall, because that's our downstairs interior room. (There's also a crawl space with an eight foot ceiling we could go into that's probably safer, but I refuse to wait out a storm with spiders.)

We were in the kitchen watching the black clouds for funnel shapes, when suddenly one of the Southern pines in the wooded area of our backyard broke apart and a fifty-foot section of its top went flying by the window. Fortunately, it missed the house and landed on the fence instead. Again, fortunately, wrought iron is really tough, because all it did was break off two finials.

Well, that was exciting. But about two minutes later, the phone rang. It was my editor, telling me that SHATTERED had made the New York Times printed bestseller list. Which was even more exciting! THEN, the UPS guy made it through the storm to delivery a package. It was, my sweetie admitted, a Valentine's Day present. Reminding him that I don't celebrate Valentine's day, I decided to make it a New York Times present. That way I could also open it right then and there.

And wow. There was my kite. But rather than the big dragon eyes on the front, my sweetie had had found one with a unicorn. Which is even cooler.


So, now I'm beginning a new tradition. And as I told my publisher, when she called to congratulate me, every time I look at my unicorn soaring over half a mile high in the sky, I'll think of Shane Garrett and Kirby Campbell landing themselves on the Times and all the people -- from the publishing house, to the stores, to the very special readers -- who helped get them there.