In honor of Valentine's Day, I am recycling an entry from February of 2005, with edits and updates.
Anyone who knows me at least a little bit realizes that I am not romantic.
Sure, I like flowers and Godiva chocolate as much as the next girl, but I'm not mushy or sentimental .
I'd rather drink my own blood than read Danielle Steele and stick white-hot needles under my nails but don't make me read a Harlequin romance.
So it's Valentine's Day. Time to buy the flowers, get a card, hopefully those dinner reservations were made several weeks in advance.
I did a little research to find out the origin of Valentine's Day. While there are several theories regarding the tradition of exchanging cards and gifts with your Valentine, the actual name St. Valentine refers to some interesting little-known historical figures.
I thought I'd share my favorite St. Valentine.I find it rather amusing and really, it just suits the death hag in me.
Back in Ancient Roman days, February 14 was the day before the Festival of Lupercalia, a feast celebrating a Heathen God. Boys and girls were raised separately during those times, but the day before the festival they chose names and paired up, sometimes ending up marrying each other eventually.
Emperor Claudius II (a.k.a. Claudius the Cruel) couldn't raise enough soldiers for his army since none of the men who were of the age to serve wanted to leave their sweethearts behind and face a certain death. So Emperor Claudius II canceled all the engagements and weddings indefinitely.
There was a priest, allegedly some sort of Heathen priest, named Father Valentine who surreptitiously performed marriages, though. He was caught, arrested, beaten to death and then beheaded.
Isn't that romantic?