Everybody has a bit of Irish in them so the Irish are always claiming. With a name like mine, Colleen Margaid O'Grady, one can see there is Irish in me! But I am only half Irish, the other half is British! Daddy was of Irish stock, Mummy was a Wakefieldian opf Yorkshire. That's why they split for the orange and the green don't mix see! It has taken my good Irish friend Aileen many years to get me to lay claim to being Irish, remember Saint Patrick's Day and love all things Irish! There's a warniong in my ears to remember to wear something green to Church tomorrow! Yes, Aileen. But I love all things British also, and American and Canadian and New Zealand and...well, I guess you get my drift. I'm doing my best Aileen but really, when it all boils down, I'm a true blue Aussie. Thanks Susan for posting this on your blog so that I could share it and think of my Irish ancestry
Sigh
I also don’t drink Guinness.
But I like the blessings.
“May all who love the Lord, love you, and those who don’t love you, may the Lord give them a limp so you can see them coming.”
I asked my DH if he’d like a special dinner this Sunday: Irish stew, soda bread, root-beer. He said a green menu was fine with him. He suggested kale and spinache. (serious!)(Do the Irish even eat vegetables other than potatoes?) The thing is, DH is more Irish than I am. Our surname is Irish. His brother and sister who had red hair had bright red hair (she still does); whereas mine had auburn (he’s now bald).
St. Patrick’s day is a good day to celebrate now that spring is finally here and the coming of all things green is certain. Besides, I like the story of the saint driving the snakes from Ireland (symbolically of course, when he brought Christianity to them). I’ve never been a fan of snakes. To me, the best snakes are the ones that live far, far away.
Anyway, as per DH’s request, we’ll have green drinks for breakfast (like most days) and raw pea soup for lunch (and maybe some soda bread with pistachios). I might even do something with potatoes (red ones—just don’t tell my Idaho kin). I’ll spread the green tablecloth and find other ways to overload the green. However, there will be no funny hats or t-shirts that say, “Kiss me, I’m Irish.” (Besides, my DH won’t need the prompt.)
This Sunday, when the whole world is Irish, may your troubles be less and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door. And remember what they say, “When Irish eyes are shining—they’re usually up to something.”
Also, don’t tell my DH, but if he goes first, I just may just replace him with a red-head..
“May you live to be a hundred years, with one extra year to repent,” and the familiar, but good one, “May you be an hour in heaven before the Devil knows you’re dead.”











