The bones of St . Valentine were donated to St . Francis ’ church in the Gorbals area of Glasgow by a wealthy French family in 1868 . There they laid for more than a century within their ossuary , unseen and forgotten , situated in modest box that bore the words “ Corpus Valentini Martyris ” – the body of St . Valentine .

In 1999 , the remains were moved to an adjacent church , Blessed John Duns Scotus , and put on display in the entrance .

Other cities claim to host the saint ’ s bones , but given Glasgow is my hometown , the truth of the matter seems less important than establishing the claim to the somewhat macabre contents of the box .

I thought of the Catholic martyr recently when I visited the twelfth annual Valentine ’ s in Valentine event at the Old Mercantile General Store , which was built in 1907 .

A biting wind ravaged the brave and hardy souls as they enjoyed Jimmy Vaughn , who was headlining on the main stage . Strategically placed fire pits did their best to warm the arses of those keen to see Jimmy and his band . Some may have even succeeded .

Later , the live music continued indoors . The Pulpit Ramblers from Fort Worth returned to grind out some oily rock . Sheverb , the outstanding woman-led psychedelic desert rock band , once again conjured up a maelstrom with their twangy guitars , surf rock riffs , piercing trumpet , and seductive melodies .

I like to think that about four-and-a-half thousand miles away , St . Valentine ’ s bones were rattling away in time . Here ’ s to Valentine , Texas , and , as always , let music be the food of love . �