What? You got somethin' to say?
Is he is some kind of Irish gang that I don't know about?
And is he the sidekick?
When Irish eyes are smiling . . .
Or not.
Tatties 
Suspended shamrocks
Top o' the morning to ye . . .Happy St. Patrick's Day to all the Irish and Irish wanna-bes alike!
For some reason, I've always loved St. Patrick's Day, even though I'm only a smidgen Irish and we never celebrated it in a big way at home. Something about it, though, made me happy.
And no, it wasn't the green beer.
In eighth grade, Sr. Cecelia used to break out the ancient black hymnals, and she taught us all to sing:
For some reason, I've always loved St. Patrick's Day, even though I'm only a smidgen Irish and we never celebrated it in a big way at home. Something about it, though, made me happy.
And no, it wasn't the green beer.
In eighth grade, Sr. Cecelia used to break out the ancient black hymnals, and she taught us all to sing:
Great and glorious St. Patrick,
Pray for our dear country, the land of
our fathers!
Great and glorious St. Patrick,
Hearken to the prayers of
your children.
All these years later, that song has stuck with me, and when I hear it in my
head, it is the sound of thirty-five pubescent thirteen year olds singing along
with one zealous nun.
So today, we are all wearing the greenest things we own, supplemented by some drugstore St. Patrick's Day accoutrement. Nothing celebrates a Catholic saint like some light-up shamrock necklaces and a couple of green tattoos.
Hey, at least I didn't buy the suspenders that said "Buy me a shot, Irish or not."
We're eating potatoes at dinner, but I resisted the urge to make any number of delicious looking Bailey's-inspired desserts that I stumbled over on my bloggy rounds. I'm not even going to have a Shamrock Shake.
But I do have Darby O'Gill and the Little People on loan from Netflix, so score! Young Sean Connery, need I say more? (even though he is Scottish and that makes him cuter . . . )
Have a happy evening, my friends.
head, it is the sound of thirty-five pubescent thirteen year olds singing along
with one zealous nun.
So today, we are all wearing the greenest things we own, supplemented by some drugstore St. Patrick's Day accoutrement. Nothing celebrates a Catholic saint like some light-up shamrock necklaces and a couple of green tattoos.
Hey, at least I didn't buy the suspenders that said "Buy me a shot, Irish or not."
We're eating potatoes at dinner, but I resisted the urge to make any number of delicious looking Bailey's-inspired desserts that I stumbled over on my bloggy rounds. I'm not even going to have a Shamrock Shake.
But I do have Darby O'Gill and the Little People on loan from Netflix, so score! Young Sean Connery, need I say more? (even though he is Scottish and that makes him cuter . . . )
Have a happy evening, my friends.
