Valentines day

Breaking the time-honoured tradition of not even noticing that this much-hyped day is passing, we are going out FOR LUNCH. Incredible. No sign of a delivery man staggering under the weight of red roses at the front door, but it's a start.
I just had to post a picture of, I forget which, bridge in Paris where breathless, intoxicated lovers pause from a pink world of passion, and clamp a small padlock engraved with a few meaningful words onto the link fence.

                    


'How wonderful', I had breathed, observing all these trinkets when we were visiting that magical city, a couple of summers ago. People must travel from thousands of miles with this idea of romantic gesture carried close to their hearts; or perhaps rush to a Cordonnier (cobbler-type business) on a whim, padlock in sweaty hand after being caught in a torrid holiday romance . . .
This heady, romantic idea was somewhat squashed by a feature on Telematin this morning, however.
For a price, you can order on the internet, a padlock, (size, colour to be determined) with your engraved message. Then presumably some French bod will go and whap it onto the fence along with the rest of the orders.
Come on! Where's the romance in that.
I don't know . . . Goes into kitchen to put kettle on . . .