"May the wind be always at your back..."

A belated Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all!
Gone are the days when we would go out and celebrate at Maloney's, but still the joy of the day lives on. Actually, we didn't really do anything Ireland-specific. I didn't eat any corned beef and cabbage (yuck!); we didn't go hunting for any leprechauns (it's kinda unnecessary when I've got an angel and leprechaun in one sitting on my shoulder every day anyway); there were no shamrock fields to skip through (Sydney wore a very cute little shamrock-covered dress for her first St. Pat's, though! Too cute!); the only green I sported was a shamrock-shaped lapel pin; and I don't know all the words to "When Irish Eyes are Smiling."
Does that make me a bad Irish descendant? I don't think so, and I'm pretty sure that my Gramps wouldn't think so, either. (He would have loved Sydney in her dress.) I am, I believe, one of the few who claim Irish ancestry that has actually been to Ireland. Some fun Ireland facts: The people there don't eat corned beef and cabbage all the time; in fact, it's a lot of meat and potatoes, fish, and soup. They don't say, "Top o' the mornin' to ya," either. Oh yeah, and very few men wear bowler hats, and none of those hats are green.
That information kinda takes the fun away from the American version of the holiday, but not entirely. I still wish I had remembered to put on my shamrock suspenders and matching socks.