We have had some memorable Auld Sod experiences, from kissing the Blarney Stone in 1981 (Peter and I were helping my mother escort a group tour of Wyoming senior citizens) to singing along with a Guiness-drinking crowd at Murphy’s in Seattle in 1993. (I still love the commemorative pin from that night — in fact it’s on one of my favorite winter jackets).
Although we don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day much (green beer is more of a stomach-turner than a toasting-preference), we did spend a memorable March 17th in Ireland in 1999. The Irish do know how to throw a party. A glorious day in Dublin dawned, with a horizon-to-horizon blue sky for the parade. We bopped a’plenty during a ceili in the park later in the afternoon (a full-on jig was a little too challenging). Our hotel was right next to a bar; before we headed out on St. Patrick’s Day, the courtyard, visible from our window, was absolutely empty. The next morning it was packed with empty kegs! Jet-lagged and exhausted from so much in the day, we slept right through most of the night’s music and the festivities.
Whatever you do today, enjoy! I’ll be thinking fondly of my mother and my connections to Ireland — appreciating my Irish roots and many wonderful memories.
Seventeenth in a series of month-long posts:
stay tuned for more March Madness.