This is 15 (together).

In the 15 years Olin and I have been together (10 of them married), we've created various Valentine traditions. We've gifted underwear (which is way less sexy than it sounds - fancy cold-weather first layers, like long johns, are favorite picks for this). For a number of years, we did 7 am breakfasts at Penny Cluse, saving the evening of 2/14 for our Platonic Pancake Lovefest. This was a pancake party for all of our friends - singles, couples, kids, whoever.

The most memorable of these happened 8 or so years ago, when 2 feet of snow trapped most of our guests at home. Not S and A. They snowmobiled over. Right down North Ave. And two single friends made it. Now they are married and expecting a baby. Like I said, Lovefest. Back then, when we were newlyweds. Or, at least, back then, when we were kid less and had more time for dates.

Today, our love looks more like this:

He is driving because the snowy, icy roads are dicey and that makes me super anxious.

He who remembered my mentioning months ago that I love the Vermont hats from Syrup Shop  and bought my favorite one, even I never told him the colors.

He who has been listening to me, for at least a week, obsess about my lower back pain. What if it's a kidney infection and not a snowboarding-induced strain?

He'll give me one of his kidneys, he jokes. And then, noticing real worry on my face, he listens to me read, aloud, a list of symptoms from WebMD.

He who pushes me to get behind the wheel at other times when I'm scared, to head back to the mountain when it'd be easier to just stay home and make the chili. Because he knows I'll be pissed at myself if I don't. 

And he cares.