Although we now live in a world where it’s cool to be green–even if it’s not as easy as we would like to think–I have never had an urge to drink green beer or swim in a green river or do any of the other green things that often accompany St. Patrick’s day. It’s funny that this particular saint’s day brings forward so much bizarre behaviour and a good amount of imbibing: I heard that a significant amount of driving fatalities occurring on that day involve drunken driving.
I have only rarely partaken of meals for this particular saint’s day, and I was surprised to find myself offered a lunch today, which involved corned beef, boiled potatoes, Brussels sprouts, carrots and onions, with bread pudding and whisky sauce for dessert. It was a free, though totally unexpected lunch, for which I did not even have to kiss the blarney stone. Praise to the various cooks.
I spent the day working in an office at my church, and it was a fittingly sunny and Spring-like day. I had gone on a mission–no pun intended–to have someone there look at my sick laptop. The devil that it is, decided that once it touched hallowed ground it would behave properly and allowed me to work with it without a single hiccup. So, no need to get technical help. But, once I had gotten comfortable and was into a groove, I just hung there all day. It’s a different environment, with the hammering of toddlers’ feet coming through the ceiling from the day care centre on the floor above.
If Lent is about giving, then thanks to those who gave to me, and I have received more than my fill today. I would love to sign off with a Gaelic expression, but instead offer the choice, as cited on an Internet website of Irish sayings.