Valentine’s Day is coming up. If you have a stack of photos sitting around that you have not shared with everyone — use them to make a book. There are quite a few choices of places to design books. I have made several using Blurb. It is so easy, you’ll absolutely knock yourself out with the result.

The book-making software is free. It takes minutes to download and you are ready to upload your photos. Finished books vary in cost depending upon size, number of pages and cover style — but a book that is 20-40 pages in length with a hard-cover starts at 22.95. Chump change!

Hustle if you are going to get it produced and shipped in time for VD. But if you can’t make that date, you can always dream up a reason for gift-giving.  Here are a some ideas to do without even leaving the house. 

Food for Thought – Make a favorite dessert or spinach dip or your world-famous chex cereal snack mix. Photograph each step of the way. Use the recipe for text. 

Feeeelins – Have someone take photos of you expressing different moods. Throw in some favorite quotes or memories.  

Sound of Music – Use the words to a favorite song as text. Illustrate it with photos of common household objects related more or less to the words of the song.

At Home With Pablo (or Frisky or Oscar, or whatever) – Use all of those pet photos. Or record a day by taking pictures from his/her eye level. Dorky? Of course — but pet owners are wacky about them. If available, substitute a small child for equal wattage.

Yesterday I was sitting around thinking my day could have more meaning, more umph, more something. It was a state brought on by a multiplicity of circumstances: because there are still over 50 days to go til spring, because the Christmas tree is still sitting on the front porch, because my To Do List is seriously flat and boring. 

Lately when I turn on the computer, it does not automatically connect to the internet. I have to fool it into thinking it is a brand new day by turning the power completing off, wait 20 seconds and turn it back on. Only then does it agree to show up for work. This is not an attractive characteristic of an office partner.  

But there I was, checking e-mail.

I learned that I had qualified for 50% off chocolate dipped strawberries, someone was holding a mystery shopper assignment for me and One King’s Lane was having a sale on valentines. I had notices about new grants, an invitation to a gallery opening and a request to view my investments.  

The To Do List could wait. I was back in the game.

Ted Kooser is a two time US poet laureate (2004-2006). The best that I can gather from that honor is the Library of Congress appoints poets and entrusts him/her with no less than, “Why don’t you raise the status of poetry in the everyday conscience of the everyday American? ”

Well, Ted   — in case the Library of Congress is counting, count me in — I have raised my appreciation of poetry soooo much. Tell them to call me, if they want.  Tell them to read this, it’s one of my favorites.

                     In January

Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city
creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.

Alright, let’s get this straight from the start. Junior Leagues in every city, town and village contribute in immeasurable ways to heating up the community’s quality of life. They nurture volunteerism, raise buckets of money, and cheerfully give it away in order to  tackle the great Underlying Causes. 

Probably Wikipedia uses them to explain Do-Gooder. 

But let’s face it, what they really are good at, what they really do better than any eager church group, sly corporation, or even Italian dynasty is  — cookbooks. Yes, indeed, you know what I’m talking about. 

In 1984, the Junior League of Kansas City, Missouri produced Beyond Parsley. It is a stunning cookbook not only because of the recipes but also the full-page food photos like this one, appropriately enough called Sugar Cookie Cut-Outs.  

Skip the intro, it’s a cookbook not a novel. 

Even with over 200 Junior League cookbooks in print, in my opinion, BP wins the top spatula. It will make you a much better cook that you thought possible. Filet of Sole Parmesan, Artichoke Sausage Soup and White Chili are some of my repeats.   

I bought a used copy for a gift at Half Price Books the other day and I checked and copies are available at Amazon. Oh — alright, the national Junior League web site  has other JL cookbooks for sale including, a Celebration Cookbook: A Treasury of the 400 Most Requested Recipes from Junior League Cookbooks (warning–no photos).

Don’t even think about sending me a thank you note.

We are going south for a while. Downstairs, Sig is negotiating with Sue, a new person to take care of our cats while we are gone. I can hear her, “No, that is way too much money.” Sig interrupts, “No, I tell you what…” then his voice trails off in a characteristic mumble.

The count is 4 inside, 1 out.

They are: Mollie and Lucy, our cat states women, Robert Parker, real name – Max, who abandoned his home up the street last summer and Rex, originally a small winsome stray, who after recovering from an intestinal parasite resembles a brick house. Zach lives on the front porch where he spends the bulk of his days on the glider with a heating pad.

Two of the cats have health issues. One needs an injection of fluids twice a week to prop up a kidney, another needs a pill a day which must be popped down her throat as she is not a pill-eater.  

Sue works part-time at our vet and owns 4 cats herself. She knows all of the cats, she can do the fluid adjustment herself rather than drag Mollie to the office, and she has given Lucy pills before. She is in a band and goes off occasionally for gigs. When she does she lines up a series of cat-sitters for herself. She is experienced, mature, and personable.

(OMG, she is now playing the piano downstairs and she is very good.) I wonder what she will want for Christmas next year?

If you have trouble falling asleep or getting back to sleep when you’ve waken too early, try this: a humidifier, a cup of hot cocoa, a copy of the New Yorker and an eye bag.  

The humidifier will rhythmically exhale puffs of mist making the air moist to help you breathe more comfortably. The milk has tryptophan in it — and if you believe, it is a sleep inducer. Writers for the New Yorker are not plainspoken; they dazzle readers with lengthy diatribes, acrobatic syntax and boatloads of obscure literary devices.  Frankly, the NY is just a little bit numbing. 

Then, and here is the secret — get an eye bag.

It’s a weighted  fabric pouch that sits across both eyes and completely blocks any light with the firmness of a loving touch. Here is mine. My friend, Joyce, gave it to me. She got it from 1000 Villages, a fair trade store that carries products from under-developed countries.

PS: Don’t get me wrong, I will never give up my New Yorker. I love to read it, I love to carry it, I love to pass it on.

I won’t ever give my up cat eye bag.