All heart

DD called yesterday to say I’d left a few things in his car and he would drop off on his way to the airport.

His new head office is in Adelaide, so he’s on his way to the airport a lot lately.

We went to the Hunter Valley on the weekend with a few of his friends for a belated Christmas lunch/getaway. It was BOILING hot, but we had a lovely time at a restaurant called Restaurant Botanica.

We had delicious morsels including confit octopus, sauce vierge, ruby grapefruit and preserved lemon; Moreton Bay Bugs, zucchini, avruga caviar and tomato essence; Tajima bavette cut steak with Café de Paris butter, pumpkin purée, swiss chard and red wine jus; roast pineapple, coconut white chocolate macaron, fresh pineapple, tarragon crisps and coconut sorbet; and lots of delicious wine, including a Keith Tulloch chardy.

Here’s some food porn, plus a group photo (above) that made me swear it was time to go on a health kick.

There was also a lot of post-lunch bubbly consumed.

So, when DD said I’d left some stuff in his car, I didn’t think much of it. I just hoisted a dog under each arm and headed downstairs so they could do a wee while I collected my stuff.

It turned out I hadn’t forgotten anything, he was just delivering me some pre-Valentine’s Day flowers.

Nawwwww. I adore him.

It was a lovely gesture as Valentine’s Day isn’t my totes fave.

There have been some absolute shockers.

I will do a bit of recap for anyone who missed last February 14’s blog post.

There was my date at a fancy French restaurant where the woman at the next table screeched with outrage every time a French delicacy was served – from oysters to coddled eggs to rare steak. She was so incensed about everything being “f@#king raw’ that I feared she might deck the chef at any moment.

So romantic.

Then there was Valentine’s Day 2014, when my husband got the keys to his bachelor pad after announcing that he was leaving me.

Break out the violins and long-stemmed roses.

There was also the agonizing February 14 when miscarried my Mirena. A Mirena is a plastic anchor-shaped thingy that is commonly used for birth control – in my case it was a failed attempt to mitigate my lady plumbing problems.

There is nothing romantic about miscarrying a Mirena.

For Valentine’s Day 2022 I decided to focus on self care. I went to the beautician and requested red shellac on my toenails, plus a brow shape and lash tint.

Everything was going well until the beautician suggested I dye my eyebrows, which are getting a little on the grey side.

I was a little nervous, but said yes, emphasising that I wanted them LIGHT brown. Very light brown.

They were VERY NOT light brown. It looked like there are two big, black caterpillars crawling across my forehead.

You probably think I’m exaggerating, but the youngest literally almost cried laughing when I picked her up.

My beauty misstep was particularly unfortunate because I was having a romantic Valentine’s dinner and sleepover with DD in the city that night.

Grub eyebrows did not fit with the agenda, but I was stuck with them.

When DD picked me up he looked at me slightly strangely. I asked if he noticed anything different about me and he tentatively said: “More make-up?”

God bless him, he didn’t really notice, but once I confessed what I’d done he agreed they were a bit dark. So he took me to Mecca Cosmetica in the city and bought me a dark MAC lipstick to balance them out.

Fortunately my black brows didn’t interfere with us having a fabulous date.

This Valentine’s Day will be very quiet. I am heading to the office – wearing a mask on the bus so I don’t get the dreaded COVID again – then heading back home to cook the kids dinner. I’m thinking gnocchi bake.

Love and kisses and I’ll catch you tomorrow.

Song of the day: Simple Minds “Love song”

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