Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Well, it's that time of year again, when birds begin chirping, flowers begin blooming, and little Irish leprechauns begin cooking corned beef and cabbage. It's on this day every year (give or take a few years in the past) that my friend Jennifer and I become leprechaun helpers, as we cook that corned beef and cabbage for them. Today will be part of the norm, and we'll make a night of it. No Guinness, fortunately or unfortunately (fortunately). That, actually, was last Friday night, when a passel of us from the Huckleberries blog went to Spokane's local Irish pub (yes, there is one, called O'Doherty's). Some of us downed several Guinnesses. Some of us (like me) took a shot of Guinness, grimaced, and then ordered a lager. (Hey, at least I ordered a lager!) And then we ate greasy food and told stories. I told my story of having actually met the Guinnesses - Desmond and Penny - back when I was 21 and living in London and my British boyfriend was building the kitchen in their London flat, and they invited us to come visit them in Ireland in some castle or something, and me in my youth said oh, maybe next time I'm out this way.... Hey, I was out of money and I was getting ready to go home and - well, I had the optimism of youth. I actually believed I'd be back in a week or so. Have never made it back yet - to England, much less the Guinnesses' castle in Ireland. Wouldn't that be funny if I knocked on their door one day and said, "Here I am! What - you don't remember inviting me??"

The one thing I have done this past month or so is be in contact with my friends Charlotte and Julian from England, who I completely adored back then but then fell away from, as happens when we grow older.... I would love, love to go back and see them again... just emailed with Charlotte yesterday...

Between St. Paddy's Day today, and St. Guinness' Day last Friday and Charlotte's email yesterday - oh, and my recent entry about watching Peter Pan in London... all and all, it's been quite the United Kingdom week for me this week.

I do come by this Irish thing honestly. My maternal grandfather was half Irish. My mother tells a story of going to an Irish wake as a kid, and wondering why one of the uncles suddenly dropped his head into his plate, right into the mashed potatoes, and the adults saying, "Uncle is just very tired..."

Guinness, anyone?

Oh, and here's a link to what happened last Friday at O'Doherty's Pub.

photo credit: Mando Gomez, found here