Skip to main content

Top 'o the morning!



   We’re coming up on St. Patrick’s Day, which is pretty much my favorite day in the world. It’s even better when you take a solid week to celebrate. Once I followed the truck full of green beer all the way up 81 to Coleman’s Irish Pub in Syracuse. It wasn’t on purpose. Honest. It was inspiring. We used to talk the priest at my old job into going out for a green beer with us because no decent Irish bartender would charge a man with a collar. We’d ask him to order for us, and he usually obliged for at least a round or two.
   And on top of the green beer, there’s the corned beef and mashed potatoes with onion, celery and carrots. I always doubted whether Dubliners actually eat corned beef on St. Patty’s Day. Probably not. This year I didn’t buy the corned beef, another casualty of moving away from my two oldest. They loved my corned beef and cabbage, and I made it for them every year. Now it’s my husband and I, and God only knows what might happen if we ingest that much fat and starch in one day. My youngest son doesn’t eat meat and already asked if we could celebrate the day by buying St. Patrick a birthday cake at Stop & Shop. He’s Baby Jesus so I didn’t say no.
   What a great holiday though. Delicious food, great Irish music, parades, crazy green clothes, and this year a chance for SU’s basketball team to take the last Big East game. It doesn’t get much better than that. I may go out and buy those fake fingernails and paint them green. That sounds just about perfect.


Tis better to buy a small bouquet

And give to your friend this very day,

Than a bushel of roses white and red

To lay on his coffin after he's dead.


  

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Getting well takes baby steps

So I’ve had what you could call a case of the pneumonia. It was not pleasant. And to top it off it happened in San Antonio, Texas. Like I wasn’t sweating before the fever.
I was there to see my niece Michelle, who by the way kept asking me, “Are you going to write about this?” which is funny because she’s a writer too. I naturally said, “Oh no, of course not.” And here we are.
Thinking back, the best part of that trip teeters between meeting my two great-nephews, Oliver and Isaac, and having a couple of beers with their Yaya, my sister, who I haven’t had beers with in decades. Like I said, it’s a toss-up. There’s also the fact that I got to spend time with my niece’s husband Alex. He’s a hardcore military guy. He teaches other military guys how to be military policemen. I’m not going to gamble on writing anything about him. He’s from Wisconsin though, which I like. And he likes to cook, which I also like.
I thought to myself before I ever left my nice cocoon of Martha’s Vineyard to tra…
Post a Comment
Read more

Just sitting around doing jack

I think my blog may have been hijacked. I haven’t written in forever because I’ve been writing …for my job, which may mean I’m no longer a “jobless goddess.” I may just be a regular goddess.
I love the word jack. I could use that all day. Whatever, hopefully those who want to read the blog will read. Back to jack. It’s a cool freaking word. I had a brother-in-law named Jack who pretty much personified the word “cool.” He’s gone too soon and missed by everybody.
There’s Billy Jack, get back Jack, Jack Sprat, Jack Nicholson, Jack Berry, Jack in the Box, Jumping Jack Flash. And my favorite, a little ditty my sister introduced me to, “Jack Mother.” This is a something you say when someone cuts you off on the highway. “I’m sorry officer, I was cut off by that Jack Mother in the blue Subaru.”
My brother Steve has a friend named Jack. I thought he was about the greatest thing ever when I was 12. Who are we kidding? I probably still do. Jackie was hilariously funny and I loved to watch my brot…
Post a Comment
Read more

Little women

I’m getting a real kick out of my co-workers these days. I’m working with about a half dozen young women — young being the operative word.
They’re all so freaking competent it kills me. They can write like it’s nobody’s business, they all take great photos to go with their stories, and they almost always laugh at my jokes. I call them ‘the girls.’
They’re either about to go to university, just leaving university, or all done with it and on their way. They do yoga and eat a lot of avocados. We live on Martha’s Vineyard and none of them know who John Belushi is but they all know they should keep using the same plastic cup for take out iced coffee over and over and over again. If they see a bug, they think twice before killing it. Actually they leave it for me to kill because they couldn’t possibly… and they know I won’t hesitate.
We get along just fine the girls and me. Oh, there’s a little trouble when I insist on running the window air conditioner up in our second floor office —ramsha…
Post a Comment
Read more