Being from New York and going to a school named St. Brigid's followed by a high school full of Irish Americans meant I had a strong connection to St. Patrick's Day long before I married a man from Dublin.
I remember the St Brigid's Fife and Drum Corp and learning Irish songs when I was in grade school chorus. I remember everyone being Irish in high school. And Rob came along-really it was no big deal.
It's no big deal because for the Irish and for New Yorkers St. Patrick's Day consists of the following things-a parade, corn beef and cabbage, wearing green, and beer.
That's New York. I don't live there any more. No matter how many times I click my heals together -I'm still in California and they do everything different here-especially St. Patrick's Day.
I've gotten over the fact that one of the classroom tradition is these wacky visits from leprechauns. Teachers will stay after school-trash their classrooms, cover their hands in green paint and stamp it over the wall pretending that a leprechaun had invaded the classroom. Really? That's ridiculous. We never did that in New York, they don't do that in Ireland, and why are you trashing your own classroom?
Another thing they do is pinch you if you aren't wearing green. Really? Is that the best you can do?
But all that my friends pales in comparison to what I saw in my local supermarket's deli last week. Do you see that picture at the top of my blog? (I can't move it or I would). They have bought back corn beef sandwiches just for St Patrick's Day. Have you seen the names? Reuben and Rachel.
Reuben and Rachel -REUBEN ! The Irish sandwich is named REUBEN.
Toto-once again I can attest we're not in Kansas anymore-or New York -or Dublin. Top of the morning and shalom to all of you.