Thursday, March 17, 2011

"And they call it the dear little Shamrock of Ireland"

Forget your troubles today.

I've noticed that people of Irish descent do this on a daily basis. It might be with a pint at ye olde pub down the way, or with something simple, like walking down a cobblestone street saying "top of the mornin to ya" to everyone they meet. I LOVE St. Patricks day. I always have, all things green and shimmery beads hanging from my neck and the sound of bagpipes......they make me stand still with respect when the men walk by wearing their kilts, playing that beautiful sound. I don't mean to wax poetic here, but I'm telling you, the sound moves me.

May your blessings outnumber
The shamrocks that grow,
And may trouble avoid you
Wherever you go.

Irish blessings are countless. I have a few books, I've googled, I even have the good luck of having some true blood Irish friends in my midst that tell  me how lovely Dublin is, and have the great skill of describing it so well that I feel as though I'm there. I will kiss that Blarney Stone one day.
Corned beef and cabbage? I've mastered it. I only have it once a year, and thoroughly enjoy it when I do.
I will leave you with the sound of those bagpipes, tell me this doesn't get you in the spirit of Ireland. I'll buy you a pint if it doesn't!
See you soon friend,

There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle,
'Twas St. Patrick himself, sure, that sets it;
And the sun of his labor with pleasure did smile,
And with dew from his eye often wet it.
It grows through the bog, through the brake, through the mireland,
And they call it the dear little Shamrock of Ireland.

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