Wendy Reichental When not working as a secretary for the prestigious McGill University, Wendy Reichental spends her time writing about things that irk her and wishing she could do this full time. In addition to enjoying writing, she enjoys giving her husband a good foot workout as she is a bonafide reflexologist. She holds a B.A. and Diploma in Family Life Education from McGill University. Tell A Friend About Us:

My Authentic Valentine
By Wendy Reichental

L ast year my husband in an unusual departure from predictable behavior booked us a weekend away at this 5-star rated world renowned authentic rustic inn just in time for Valentine’s. It was Friday night when we made the two and a half hour drive, on a full think tank of marital expectations; after all, it was only the most romantic occasion of the year; according to Cosmopolitan Magazine at least. We stayed focused on what seemingly developed into a long meandering road ahead before seeing the sign for “Emotionally Charged Weekend” exit next right.

Once inside and shaking off any doubts and a nasty Canadian winter chill, a receptive clerk checked us in and a little too steadfastly confirmed my husband’s “Bed and Breakfast” reservation. And might I add, not apparently the “VALENTINE-A-PALOOZA” package, which included a full country candlelight breakfast, a bottle of complementary champagne, a five course gastronomic dinner and all the romance you can imagine made more possible and probable by having the rose scented whirlpool suite! Suddenly, I had reservations!

Two flights of creaking wooden stairs later we stood before our room and unlocked the door to a musty yet oddly appealing odor. The old-world romantic floral and Victorian motif adorned practically everything in the room. The next morning, we awoke to the tempting smell of bacon and fresh brewed coffee, which delightfully wafted up our nostrils and beckoned us downstairs. Our host escorted us to a corner table ensconced with delicate white plates and authentic silverware all laid out over a crisp white linen tablecloth. I smiled enviously at a neighboring canoodling couple. I indulged in my buttered croissant while my husband enjoyed his heaping bowl of oatmeal. After our breakfast, he released a huge operatic yawn, and I rolled my eyes at his less than enthusiastic performance. What we needed was a nice invigorating walk.

I was dressed in full winter abode, a sheepskin coat and matching sheepskin bomber hat with those goofy tie-up earflaps, my husband sported a hooded parka donning a complete lack of interest. We walked in silence, like any long time married couple, with nothing left to say or so it sometimes seems. This loss of conversation often worries me and just when I was about to share this concern, my feet ran cold. Literally, I had lost all feeling in my extremities. I remember being authentically relieved when we reached the warmth of the village shops.

You have to love those charming authentic shops with their requisite design of squeaky wooden floors, plus the usual myriad of knickknacks from aromatic candles and soaps, to a few weather-beaten aluminum milk jugs and some vision impaired teddy bears in need of your grandfather’s bifocals. On occasion it is possible to come across a fetching item like I did, when I spotted this velvety soft silver and white hand knitted shawl. But then I caught my husband’s authentically annoyed gaze, a unique craft of his own. His only amusement at these places is to try and get me to guess the price tag of something and then deem it absolutely absurd that anyone in their right mind would spend that kind of money. I discretely and disappointedly put back the shawl.

Back at the inn, we dressed for our no frills dinner. We got led to a standard booth inside the inn’s pub style restaurant. I looked around and noticed we were all alone! Meanwhile, lively jazz music, shrieks of laughter and general din were spilling out of the adjacent ornate dining room where the other inn patrons were enjoying their promised Valentine feast. After our overcooked meals and lukewarm facades we retired to the inn’s sitting room and sought some heat by the open-hearth fireplace. The fire was dying down by now and appeared in desperate need of some stoking, a predicament I completely understood. With nothing to do but admire the many strategically positioned mallards, we called it a night and ducked back to our room.

On the morning we were leaving, while my husband tended to his shower, I started to throw my things back in the suitcase. I reached to take a pair of slacks off the hanger when just below it I noticed a brown paper bag from one of the village shops. I reached inside the bag and unfurled that eye catching shawl. By the time my husband came out of the shower, my newfound shawl and excitement was wrapped around me, providing me with the kind of warmth not solely derived from the Merino angora wool. I couldn’t believe I had so misjudged my romantically challenged husband! Too bad you all got fleeced as well! The shawl thing never did happen, but the rest of my story was otherwise 100 % authentic!

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We all know people who for whatever reason can’t accept a good thing happening to someone else, and no matter how wide their smile might be they never quite come across as being truly authentic. As a guilty participant, I have been at both the receiving end and at the giving end of this. For example I once shared good news with people at work like the time I was going on a Caribbean cruise and as soon as the details of my trip sailed out of my mouth, I felt a sharp searing pain like that from a pitchfork jabbing me in my back.

It didn’t take long before one begrudging co-worker went ahead and uttered the always popular three little ill-fated voodoo words “AREN’T YOU LUCKY”!? This simple incantation is equivalent to summoning up the calamity spirits and basically…sticking it to you! I was so distraught that when the trip did in fact NOT GO WELL I was convinced it was because I was given those evil “envy” eyes, and that made mine see red!!

Unfortunately, I am also the expert in how this eye for an eye thing works. Many years ago, I attended a family reunion where my cousin’s husband was complimenting her in front of the whole family, and for the duration continued to shower her with constant physical attention. I did not want to rain on her parade but I was seething inside, I wanted some of that for myself and I felt ashamed. We shouldn’t be feeling envious of anyone for anything especially their seemingly happy life.

Fast forward to today and my cousin has gone through a nasty separation and worse still, she is currently battling a brain tumor. It’s not just regret and hindsight that has prompted me to stop envying, its sheer exhaustion from carrying around this needless self sulking poisonous emotion and then fearing and worrying that someone is potentially spear heading "Le Mauvais Oeil"or a malevolent gaze right back at me! And much like acquiring so many material things in our lives, it’s so unnecessary.

So my resolution is as follows; from now on when a good thing happens to me I am going to rejoice in it, unafraid of any repercussions (fingers crossed of course! Hey I said one resolution! And if I observe or hear about something wonderful happening to someone else, I am going to jump in and luxuriate in their glow genuinely and without any desire to raise an envious and dilated evil green eye! (fingers crossed again!) Happy New Year to all!

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