As anyone can tell from my name, I come from an Irish family, although it’s only my father’s family that’s Irish. My mom was Scotch. So while we didn’t have wild celebrations of St. Pat’s Day, I can remember things like the time my sister and I decided green mashed potatoes would look good on the dinner table on March 17th — I think the two of us may have been the only ones with the stomachs to eat any, and we may have been being stubborn.
I’ve mentioned my mother’s sayings a few times in this blog, but for St. Pat’s Day, it’s always something my father said that pops up in my mind. He was a home builder and usually left the house before anyone else was up and functioning in the morning, so the time I remember must have been a St. Patrick’s Day that fell on a weekend because I saw him on his way out and remarked that he wasn’t wearing green. He stopped and told me, “I don’t have to wear green. I have my face.” Yes, he was a very Irish-looking man, of the black Irish type.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone.