Whether you’re Irish, part Irish, or like me an F.B.I. (Full-Blooded Italian) or an I.B.M. (Italian by Marriage…acronym could also be used for Irish by Marriage), it doesn’t matter, St. Patrick’s Day is fun to celebrate and green is such a pretty color.
What’s not to love? Emeralds, green icing, rapini (don’t judge, I love this vegetable), emeralds…sorry I already mentioned emeralds, but I love jewelry. Cute leprechauns and “Kiss Me I’m Irish” T-shirts, aprons, buttons…well, the list is endless with all the fun you could have on this day.
I don’t have a drop of Irish blood in me, but I do love their heritage and Ireland is definitely on our milestone list to visit one day.
When I was five-years-old, I hadn’t learned the English language as of yet (so, when I make a grammatical mistake or make-up words, English was not my first language, it’s a great excuse)….anyway, our Kindergarten class practiced an Irish dance for weeks before St. Patrick’s day so we could perform in front of the school and all our families.
I remember wearing a cute costume, plaid skirt, white blouse with a black velvet vest with gold buttons and shiny black shoes with a silver buckle on them. I still love pretty clothes and shiny shoes. Some things should never change. At the end of the dance, we were each asked a question. I had no idea what I was asked, I smiled and recited the little English I did know and said, “Yes, thank you.” After I said this, everyone stood up and clapped, so I did what any five-year-old with a cute costume and shiny buckles on her shoes, knowing somehow this was a real good thing to have people cheering you on (especially since her siblings were in the audience and rivalry is at its all time high at that age) I kept repeating it and bobbing my curly head up and down and then doing a jig of my own—had to make good use of those black shiny shoes with the cool buckles.
I think I’ve finally figured out why I like to give my hero’s some Irish heritage and Italian of course. I hadn’t realized I’d even done this until a reader pointed it out to me. The answer is quite simple, once I thought about it. Both cultures are similar. They love to eat, party and families are boisterous. They have cousins, second cousins, and perhaps people pretending to be cousins, uncles that come out of the attic and grandmothers whose cup runneth over with anything but tea who come together for big family reunions. Of course nothing says Irish or Italian better than ending that gathering with a screaming match.
Love this quote and how true. I am so fortunate to have connected with people who I consider to be best friends. They accept and love me, with all my quirks, mood swings and craziness. They, like my siblings (who even though like to yank my chain a LOT, I love them and consider myself blessed that I was born into this family), have mastered the fine art of teasing me, however, I have to admit, I do give them a hell of a lot of ammunition…not my fault…can’t come up with why it’s not my fault, but trust me, it really isn’t my fault. I can be a teeny, weeny bit gullible at times, so that could be part of it.
Friends are the siblings God forgot to give us, and they are also a gift. I have three who are like sisters to me, and we also bicker like sisters. One of them has generously allowed me to use her photographs for this blog.
My friend Gail—who is Irish—traveled to Ireland and the pictures on this blog post are pictures she snapped during her travels. Thank you, Gail.
I haven’t assigned her Plucker status yet, but I’m working on it. I’ve already solicited my other friend Nancy to be my official Plucker. After some discussion, Nancy and I decided that we need a back-up, in case we were both out of commission and needed a standby Plucker.
Pat asked in her comments a few minutes ago, “What is a Plucker?” I should have explained. A Plucker is the person you trust to be your official Plucker. She will pluck stray chin hairs, shape your eyebrows and in summary, make sure you are groomed if (God forbid) you are ever in a position that you can’t do it for yourself.
So, I’m sure you’re thinking how did I go from talking about St. Patrick’s day, my performance on stage (dancing a jig, not pole dancing, that’s for another blog 🙂 ) friendship and family to thinking about being plucked while in a coma?
If you’ve read this blog long enough you’ll know that my mind tends to wander during Yoga class…and well, that’s exactly what it did this morning during meditation, but I think this blog post is still pretty cohesive, don’t you?
Maybe I am getting better at meditating? Ohmmmm….Namaste….(Kidding, I couldn’t do any of those things this morning, I was mentally singing Adele’s Night Fall song).
(My husband who has read this blog before I uploaded it, had this comment: “Your mind wanders when you’re not in Yoga class as well, I think they need to know this.”)
Okay, I sometimes take his advice when posting a blog, and maybe he’s right…sort of…my mind does skip around at times, even when I’m not in the Calming Your Heart Pose (I think that’s what the instructor called it). So, there you go, I let you in on another secret. I sometimes skip from one subject to another, and this reminds me…when I first met my husband, my friend Gail had to translate what I was talking about a lot of the times. She could read my mind, probably still can, and now my husband has developed this skill. They both need to get out of my head, it can be scary for me at times.
My husband’s response when he read this part: “It’s a lot scarier for us to get inside your head.”
Don’t listen to him, my mind works in mysterious ways but it really is harmless to get inside it. 🙂
Okay, I think I’ve gone off the tracks again.
Back to St. Patrick’s Day:
Happy St. Patrick’s Day
“My friends are the best friends
Loyal, willing and able.
Now let’s get to drinking!
All glasses off the table!”
“May your heart be light and happy,
May your smile be big and wide,
And may your pockets always have ,
a coin or two inside!”
Stay tuned for Tasty Tuesday, where I share my mother-in-law’s recipe for Scones (that is, if I can decipher what she means about “adding a good teaspoon.”)
HAVE A SAFE DAY and a great kick-start to your week!