The Luck of the Irish

Celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, For Those Pretending To Be Irish

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In Honor of St Patrick’s Day, I thought I’d share some tips on how to celebrate the day if you were not lucky enough to be born Irish, as I was.  I thought about it and researched and wrote my thoughts down.  Then, having the luck of the Irish on my side, I ran into this article.  I could not have said it better my self.  So to you, I share with you these words of wisdom which i stumbled upon and decided were just too good to pass up.

Happy St Patrick’s Day……..


 It’s St Patrick’s Day, and millions of people are waking up around the world with one aim. To pretend to be Irish

Gone are the days when you can just celebrate the day with your Irish friends while submerging yourself in the culture, knowing full well you have no Irish blood whatsoever. No. Literally everyone, on this day, has a long lost cousin somewhere in a far distant shire.

It can’t be stopped. Not in a million years. So in an attempt to at least try and make things easier when you’re undercover out there, here are a few tips that may actually get you through a full day as a fake Irishman…

Exaggerate your heritage

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You have absolutely no Irish blood in you, or if you do, it’s extremely faint and almost nonexistent. But that won’t stop you. Exaggerate the sh*t out of it. Your beloved Irish nanny (who is actually called Barbara and has never even been to an Irish bar) dropped your mam on the docks of the Mersey herself and is an icon in your family.

Hate the English

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You’re going to need to hate the English for what they did to your people. Don’t go too deep with this – that’s an absolute no go. You don’t have enough time to learn the history. The best thing you can do in this situation is learn a few rebel songs and blurt them out if someone engages with you about a conflict you know absolutely piss all about.

Don’t wear an Irish flag cape, please

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If you decide to wear the Irish flag as a cape on St Patrick’s Day, you may as well run around screaming “I’m English” all day. Just don’t do it. This is one of the main ways I identify the English people every year. Granted, you will get the odd Irish person wearing one, but the majority of Irish men and women respect their flag enough not to sweat into it all day, sit on it then use it as a means to wipe up green vomit later on.

Kiss me, I’m pretending to be Irish

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Feel free to kiss this person. On the lips. With your fist. If you thought the cape was bad, and a great identifier for the English, then this is a  homing beacon. There is no doubt in my mind that whatever damage you inflict on a person wearing this t-shirt, they already deserve it. However, I will at this point say that it’s not a good idea to assault someone, and while that will probably be happening wherever you look tonight, don’t actually punch people in the lips with your fist. Just laugh at them, instead.

Don’t drink the Green Guinness

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There’s no doubt you’re going to be knocking back the fluid as consistently as possible, in order to keep up with your cohorts, who are much better drinkers than you. But you don’t NEED to drink the green stuff. It doesn’t make you more Irish. What it does, however, is waits. And waits. Until it’s ready to exit your body and make your bathroom look like that 2009 Maga’ foam party.

Don’t ask if Leprechaun’s are real

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Or do, if you want to blow your cover as a real Irish person. I would prefer you actually did this one, if I’m honest. As early on in the night as possible.

Learn the sh*t out of this

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If you don’t know this Irish banger word for word, you’re going to feel like a black sheep. Sorry, you’re going to feel even more like the black sheep that you already are. There will never be a point in the day when everyone will just spontaneously burst into song with this – in most cases it will just be an older guy in the corner, on his own after one too many. But if you really want to impress, that guy could be you.

Turn up for work tomorrow

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You’re going to want to turn up for work tomorrow, too. Your boss knows full well you’re not even the slightest bit Irish and he won’t be pleased when he finds out you just went for a midweek piss up. Your Irish colleagues will probably get the benefit of the doubt. It means something to them – even if ‘something’ just means getting shitfacewankered with their actual Irish family all day. They still have more of a reason to not make it into work the next day.


Luck is believing you’re lucky

May the luck of the Irish be with you today and always

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Easter

 

* reblogged from my own blog – One of my very early posts.  My style of writing has changed a bit, but the message is timeless.

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Happy Easter!!

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I sit in my kitchen early in the morning drinking coffee before anyone else in the household wakes up. It has always been my style. It has always been my favorite part of the day. The house is quiet. It is the calm before the storm. Raising three active boys, I knew it was only a matter of time before the storm came. Each day. And it usually did. Not in a bad way. But, in an active, chaotic way. I loved every part of it. Bring it on!

Today, tho the habit is deeply rooted and I still wake up early, the chaos is mostly gone. My children have grown. One married. One graduated from college and working. One living away from home at college. It’s mostly just Bruce and I these days. I think back on Easters past and how exciting this holiday used to be for our family.

Stay up late to fill Easter baskets. Hide them in the house. Get up early in the morning to three little boys racing from room to room trying to find their loot.

Then church. It was always a battle to try to calm everyone down. The prior weeks leading up to the big day, I would go out and shop for new outfits for each of them. When they were young, the outfits were always coordinating. They usually included suspenders and knee socks. Something they cringe at now. As they got older, they each developed their own sense of style. I still felt the maternal need to get them new duds for the holiday. So, I did.

Half the time on the way to church, a brawl would break out for some reason or another. There they would be in their new clothes, sitting strategically in our mini van to ensure the least damage to their appearance by the time we made our 10 minute drive to our destination. They knew how to push each others buttons. Inevitably, the buttons would be pushed. I would get stressed out. Clark would threaten to pull the car over.

We always made it to church in one piece. We would plant forced smiles on our faces so that nobody would know that 5 minutes earlier world war III was breaking out in our car. It was not until years later that I found out that most of our friends had that very similar experience on their ride to church. It was not unique to us. It was normal. It was the American way!

After church, the boys would find their friends in the church gym while the adults would gather and have coffee and talk for a little while. I loved this part of church. I still do. Time to catch up with everyone. This group of people end up being your church family. In a way, every Sunday after church felt like a mini family holiday or gathering. You are not born into each others lives. You find each other. Bonds form. A family by choice.

I was raised catholic. Irish catholic. That is a strong combo. Irish blood runs deep and loyal. Both of my parents worked at Notre Dame and because of this, we had the special perk of being able to attend Notre Dame at a deeply discounted price. You paid for room and board. The education was free. My friends think that for this reason, it was ironic that I ended up at a small, private, expensive protestant college.

I frequently tell my friends that I know it was not ironic, but rather, Divine Intervention. God knew exactly what he was doing when he plucked me out of my environment and plopped me down in the middle of Hope College. There, I met Bruce who I ended up marrying. There I found my true faith. A deep faith by today’s standards. Maybe it was the freedom that you experience while in College or maybe it was my age, but it was then that I realized that faith is a choice. You choose to be a believer or not. You realize that in the end, we are all worshiping the same God. We are just going down different roads and paths in our journeys.

Many Easter’s later, as a mom of three boys ~~ and now a beautiful daughter in law ~~ I think back fondly of all of those Easter mornings. The wild beginning, the chaos of trying to calm everyone to get ready for church, coming home to our big feast. I Love family holidays. I love being all together. It is my favorite thing in the world. We sit down for meals, sometimes for hours. I Look around my table and know how truly blessed I am. I have a beautiful, healthy family. My boys are the best of friends. They all love Bruce’s wife, Lauren. She fits in perfectly. They look up to their father with such respect and love. Today they might even admit that, yes, he did know what he was talking about most of the time when lecturing and giving advice.

So, however you choose to spend your day tomorrow, whether you choose to celebrate privately, with a family of choice or the family you were born into, on this day before Easter, may you all feel the special blessing that family brings to your life and of Easters past and present. And may you feel the deep meaning of the sacrifice given up for you through the cross. Happy Easter!!

happyEaster

mother nature

15260_574957839204872_1226442295_nIt’s been a little over a week since I’ve been sprung from my cell and allowed to once again be outdoors and among people.  I can enjoy the sunshine!   I can now start enjoying spring!  Except ~ spring is hiding. It snowed the other day.  And then we had a monsoon for about a week.  Then more snow.

I’ve noticed that the bad weather has affected people’s moods.  They walk around complaining.  They walk around with a look of aggravation and disappointment on their faces as if they had never seen a bad spring before.  It makes me wonder how their dispositions would be if they had just spent the past 2 weeks in prison, like Moi!   But I digress….

I didn’t care!  I was free!  I was going to go out and enjoy my freedom!  I talked Clark into going to the store and looking at some new patio furniture.  He reluctantly agreed.  So we grabbed our winter coats and hats and an umbrella for good measure and off we went!!

We pulled into the parking lot of the local patio furniture store.  It looked abandoned.  Where was everyone?  Didn’t they know it was spring?  We got a good parking space almost in the first spot of the row!  I took this as a good sign.  Yes, this was a good way to start my freedom!  If I closed my eyes and blocked out the fact that the snow was coming down in mid April, I could almost visualize myself sitting on my back porch on a new patio chair.  Feet propped up on an ottoman.  Waving to the neighbors!!  Maybe even with a fruity summer drink in my hand.

We walked in and headed toward our destination.  Patio conversation groups.   From across the showroom floor, there was one that immediately caught my eye.  We walked over to it.  It was perfect.  We tested it out and liked that it felt sturdy.  Clark was surprised at how quickly I picked one out.  Typically when making a big purchase, it takes me a long time to research.  I want the best deal!  We were in and out fast.  The new set would be delivered to our home the next week  Hurray!

6002253-delivery-man-or-mover-pushing-a-dolly-loaded-with-boxes-up-the-front-walkOK, confession time.  I had been secretly looking online at new sets for the past couple of months.   I had actually been doing a lot of online shopping while going through treatments and in isolation.  It was a great way to pass the time!  I had gotten used to weekly deliveries.  My ears became in-tuned to the UPS and FED EX truck barreling down the street.   From my bedroom, I could hear the sounds of the large truck rounding the corner near my house.  The sound of squeaking breaks and a large vehicle coming to a stop in front of my house was like music to my ears.

I’d wait for the doorbell to ring and moments later the engine of the truck would spark back to life and away it would go.  The delivery man was on to his next destination.  I was on my way down the stairs to open the front door.  I had the orchestration down beautifully!!   I’d open the door and drag in whatever new parcel was left for that day.  Joy!

The day the Patio set came was a particularly frigid spring day.  It was a Saturday and Bruce was home.  We opened the large box and there inside was our new set.  In about fifty pieces.  Hmmm.  OK,  an afternoon project!  This was going to require tools.  And patience.

We sat in our garage to put it together that day,  well,  because it was snowing outside.  It took most of the afternoon.  Clark and I work together like a well oiled machine.  He points to tools.  I bring them to him and every once in a while tell him what a fab job he’s doing.  He likes to put on a good show.  Straining loudly when a particular part of the assembly is challenging.  I encourage him and tell him he is brilliant!

All in all we enjoy being together and working on projects.  He always takes the part of project manager.  I am the lovely assistant.  This day was no different.  The set came together nicely.  Success!  No extra parts.  Now we just need some spring weather.

As I sit in my kitchen this morning looking out the window at the wintery~spring weather, I wonder how much longer these unseasonably cold tempts are going to last.  In the grand scheme of things, it really does not matter.  Spring will come.  Warm tempts will follow.  My new patio set will eventually make its way from our garage to its new home on the back porch.

Mother Nature has a way of keeping us all on our toes ~ of letting us know who the boss is.  And I, for one, would have it no other way.  Patience is a virtue.  The new season always eventually rolls around the corner.    That’s the beauty of living in a part of the country where the seasons change.  Just when you think you can’t take anymore, you are blessed with a spring morning that you are sure is the most gorgeous one you’ve ever seen.

And before you know it, everyone will be walking around with looks of aggravation on their faces because it’s just too hot outside to do anything.  And the cycle starts all over again.  Go Mother Nature!  Show us who’s boss!