Thursday, March 17, 2005

Feast of St. Patrick

Girl, are ye online?

I am.

Well, now, I couldn't tell -- I saw somethin' like a shamrock pop up, like.

Sure, that's me icon for the day. I put it up there for the Poor Relations in America.

Is that the way?

'Tis. Y'see, they taught it would be great fun to chat, like, on St. Paddy's day. And, sure, they tink Ireland's filled with nothin' but shamrocks.

Do they?

They do. And, a course, the Poor Relations from down the road have gone over just for the week, just to celebrate the Day. They say the Yanks make much more of it over there than here. Sure, one said that he'd seen more leprechauns in one day there than he'd seen in a lifetime in Kerry. And, everywhere ye turn another St. Patrick comes stroling along with his miter and his crozier and so forth. Sure, they said, it's just like Tir na n'Og.

Musha!

And, here's meself, all alone. Himeself is off with that crowd of his in Dublin. So, God save me, I went down to that new Italian place in town for bit of dinner.

Ah, now, ye're pullin' me leg.

Not at tall, not at tall. Sure, I ate somethin' they call 'ling gweeny', as tasty as you like. Den, the proprietor comes over an' says, "Do ye know that St. Patrick was Italian?" An', I says, "What on earth are ye talkin' about?"

He says, "Sure, he came straight over on a boat from Rome. They say the Pope himself sent 'im an' told 'im to go over and straighten out those wild Irish. An' he said, 'Not on your life, Holy Father -- sure, if Caesar himself couldn't bring dem to heel, your humble servant's not likely ta succeed -- sure, even your own holy person would have great trouble with that lot. Sorry, Father, I'm not your man.' But, in the end, off he went.'"

Sure, that can't be right.

Well, tink about it for just half a moment an', sure, y'know it must be false. For, if it were true, den me own boy Sean would be call "lueegee" or somethin'. Sure, we be eating pasta instead of praties. We'd all have our skin burnt, like, in what they call a "tan". An', a course, there wouldn't be a drop of tea to be found over all of Ireland.

Not at tall.

So, I set him right on that.

Good girl. Now, what's that music, like, I hear playin?

Oh, that just Himself with his playboys on the pipes -- streamin' in from Dublin. Sure, I wish he'd put as much energy into keeping the place in good repair.

But, sure, he's a fine, musical man.

That he is.

1 Comments:

Blogger palinurus said...

Good and holy Patrick
Sought to pull a hat trick.
Roman grace would chase the elves
And save the Irish from themselves.

3/18/2005 08:28:00 AM  

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