Seventeen's my favorite number, I'm blogging on dear old St. Paddy's Day and, sure and y'know, I'm Irish, to boot! At least three-eighths, by the family's last reckoning.
The funny thing is, though, on St. Patrick's Day that fraction turns to 100 proof... Uh, I mean 100 percent. (Don't blame me. I was led astray by a recent blogging here about moonshine. Nothing my ancestors would know anything about!)
Anyhow...
This all has gotten me thinking again about a story idea I have in mind, one I hope will hit the shelves some day. It's about a heroine from a 100-percent Irish family, a large loving group of eccentrics, including one close relative who's considered "more Irish than the Irish" even when it's not the family's favorite holiday.
Don't you have friends and relations like that, too? People who suddenly become more of...whatever they need to be when the occasion arises? The life of the party. The master of ceremonies. Santa Claus in a red suit or the Easter bunny if the situation demands it. They'd convert to a new religion if it would get them more gifts for the holidays.
I meet a heckuva of a lot of Irishmen on March 17th who haven't got a drop of Irish blood in them. (Whiskey's another story, however.)
But what the hey, I'm not greedy. I don't drink whiskey, so there's plenty to go around.
And believe it or not, it's not all about the booze! There's just something magical about being an Irishman in tribute to St. Patrick.
So if those friends or relatives like to sign on as honorary members for the day—or if you've a mind to give it a whirl, yourself, now—I say, have at it.
Or, maybe I should I say, the luck o' the Irish to you!
All my best to you,
Barbara
~~~~~~
Barbara White Daille
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment