St. Patrick's Day
17/03/13 04:00
So . . . I know I overuse the word “so” and that “so” is a poor word with which to begin a sentence, let alone a blog. So, I am trying to write part of my blog for this morning last night, only while I am writing it, it isn’t really last night, it is this evening and I am writing tomorrow morning’s blog. I’m doing this for a good reason even though it isn’t apparent at the moment.
What is so cool and beautiful and wonderful is that it is snowing. Big beautiful flakes of a spring blizzard, though we don’t have much wind, just snow. It started snowing around noon and it has been just wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. We have about 5 inches of snow on the ground and although the snowfall has tapered off quite a bit, it may keep falling until about midnight or so. As a result, I’ve decided to put of clearing the driveway until tomorrow morning. And tomorrow being Sunday, I need to do that job fairly early. Thus writing the blog tonight, though I will post it tomorrow, so I am really writing this last night. I think you get my drift.
Because the thing is that my snowblower is not exactly brand new. It is the latest 1995 model, which makes it about 17 years old, though not really because there have been a couple of winters when I didn’t use it and I’ve only used it once or twice this winter, so I think in snowblower terms it really can’t be 17 years old, because it doesn’t count the times when it is sitting, only the time when it is running. It is a bit noisy, however, so I hope I don’t annoy my neighbors too much tomorrow morning. The real deal is that I can’t pour gas into it without spilling a bit and I can’t remember if it needs gas and I don’t want to go out and check it tonight, so I will get up, clear the snow and then come back into the house for my shower before dressing and leaving for church. You get the picture – that takes a lot of time, so I am writing the blog last night – or this evening, depending on your perspective, which isn’t the same as mine.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you Catholic Irish folk! Being not really Irish myself, my Scotts ancestors remind me that were I Irish I’d belong to a clan that celebrated William of Orange Day and not St. Patrick’s Day. Orangeman’s Day, Orange Day or the Glorious Twelfth is a bank holiday these days, so it doesn’t always land on the 12th of July these days. This year, it will be celebrated on the 12th, which is a Friday, but in 2014, it will be observed on Monday, July 14th. Those of you who are used to the wearin’ o’ the green for St. Patrick’s, might expect Orangemen to wear orange, but that isn’t our tradition. A black suit and a black bowler hat is more the tradition. The day commemorates the Battle of Boyne, which occurred on Ireland’s east coast in 1690. What happened was that King James VII of Scotland and King James II of England and Ireland ganged up against Prince William of Orange and his followers. You might have guessed that Prince William of Orange won the battle. You might not understand that he became King William III. I think you have to be at least partly British to understand all of this.
Basically it makes as much sense as celebrating St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 as the day when St. Patrick drove all of the snakes out of Ireland, which might have been more dramatic had there actually been snakes in Ireland at the time. St. Patrick also brought Christianity to the island, which also might have been more dramatic had the Island not already had Christianity for a long time before he was born. Nonetheless he was a legitimate saint and his saint’s day is worthy of a celebration.
And every occasion is worthy of a story in Ireland.
The way I heard one of the stories is that a couple of paddies were working for the city public works department. One would dig a hole and the other would follow behind him and fill the hole in. They worked up one side of the street, then crossed over and worked their way back down. Mrs. McMillen was so impressed with their hard work that she couldn’t help but asking what they were doing: “Why do you dig a hole, only to have your partner follow behind and fill it up again?” Ah, said the hole digger. “I suppose it does look a wee bit odd, but you see we are normally a three-man team. It’s just that the lad who plants the trees called in sick today, so we’re going on without him.”
And I’m sure you heard that Shamus used to go to the pub in the States every evening and ask the tavern keeper to set three beers up on the bar. He’d drink them one by one and then leave. The barkeep asked Shamus what it was about: “Why do you always drink three?” “Oh that,” said Shamus. “It’s just that I’ve got two brothers back in the old country and I miss ‘em terribly, so each night I drink one beer for each of them before I drink my own.” The tavern man thought that was commendable and a bit touching until one day Shamus came in and ordered only 2 beers. The barkeep was alarmed and asked Shamus what was going on: “I hope that there’s nothing wrong with one of your brothers,” he said. “Oh no, not at all,” replied Shamus. “It’s just that I’ve decided to give up beer for lent.”
Yeah, you’re right. That’s enough stories for this morning. Or this evening. Or whatever time you’re reading this.
I’ve got a driveway to clear. See you in church!
What is so cool and beautiful and wonderful is that it is snowing. Big beautiful flakes of a spring blizzard, though we don’t have much wind, just snow. It started snowing around noon and it has been just wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. We have about 5 inches of snow on the ground and although the snowfall has tapered off quite a bit, it may keep falling until about midnight or so. As a result, I’ve decided to put of clearing the driveway until tomorrow morning. And tomorrow being Sunday, I need to do that job fairly early. Thus writing the blog tonight, though I will post it tomorrow, so I am really writing this last night. I think you get my drift.
Because the thing is that my snowblower is not exactly brand new. It is the latest 1995 model, which makes it about 17 years old, though not really because there have been a couple of winters when I didn’t use it and I’ve only used it once or twice this winter, so I think in snowblower terms it really can’t be 17 years old, because it doesn’t count the times when it is sitting, only the time when it is running. It is a bit noisy, however, so I hope I don’t annoy my neighbors too much tomorrow morning. The real deal is that I can’t pour gas into it without spilling a bit and I can’t remember if it needs gas and I don’t want to go out and check it tonight, so I will get up, clear the snow and then come back into the house for my shower before dressing and leaving for church. You get the picture – that takes a lot of time, so I am writing the blog last night – or this evening, depending on your perspective, which isn’t the same as mine.
Basically it makes as much sense as celebrating St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 as the day when St. Patrick drove all of the snakes out of Ireland, which might have been more dramatic had there actually been snakes in Ireland at the time. St. Patrick also brought Christianity to the island, which also might have been more dramatic had the Island not already had Christianity for a long time before he was born. Nonetheless he was a legitimate saint and his saint’s day is worthy of a celebration.
And every occasion is worthy of a story in Ireland.
The way I heard one of the stories is that a couple of paddies were working for the city public works department. One would dig a hole and the other would follow behind him and fill the hole in. They worked up one side of the street, then crossed over and worked their way back down. Mrs. McMillen was so impressed with their hard work that she couldn’t help but asking what they were doing: “Why do you dig a hole, only to have your partner follow behind and fill it up again?” Ah, said the hole digger. “I suppose it does look a wee bit odd, but you see we are normally a three-man team. It’s just that the lad who plants the trees called in sick today, so we’re going on without him.”
And I’m sure you heard that Shamus used to go to the pub in the States every evening and ask the tavern keeper to set three beers up on the bar. He’d drink them one by one and then leave. The barkeep asked Shamus what it was about: “Why do you always drink three?” “Oh that,” said Shamus. “It’s just that I’ve got two brothers back in the old country and I miss ‘em terribly, so each night I drink one beer for each of them before I drink my own.” The tavern man thought that was commendable and a bit touching until one day Shamus came in and ordered only 2 beers. The barkeep was alarmed and asked Shamus what was going on: “I hope that there’s nothing wrong with one of your brothers,” he said. “Oh no, not at all,” replied Shamus. “It’s just that I’ve decided to give up beer for lent.”
I’ve got a driveway to clear. See you in church!