Usually, St Patrick's Day passes without note. It means very little to me nowadays. It used to - a day off school mid-Lent was always a good thing even if it was rather dampened by compulsory attendance at Mass, whilst wearing a clump of something dark green and trifoliate which was supposed to be shamrock. Even so, I always loved hearing Faith of our Fathers and Hail! Glorious St. Patrick belted out resoundingly by Sheena, piercingly by Aunt Mary and with all other choristers doing their best to keep up. One St Patrick's, Daddy took us to Randalstown to see a Hibernian March. The Hibs were a sort of counterpart to the Orange and, I must confess, I was expecting to see a lot more pomp and circumstance. Our main reason for attending was to support Cousin Joe who had joined an accordion band and I was beyond excited. Along they came, a collection of (sorry) po-faced men, marching along looking very pious and accompanied by the saddest of accordionists, a couple of lack-lustre drummers and a forgettable banner. The Glorious Twelfth it was not. Did I also mention it was mizzling with rain?
Since then, the celebration of St Patrick's Day, like Halloween and Irish dancing, have all been overly influenced by our American cousins. Parades? Wearing of the green? Drinking the bit out? A lot of nonsense except for the drinking of course. The 17th of March falling always in Lent was seen as an excuse to break one's abstention from alcohol. And as children, we would give up sweeties for Lent and there would be an exception allowed for Paddy's Day.
These days, no Mass for me, no Lenten fast. St Patrick's Day is just another bank holiday. Martha had the entire day off school, while Evie had a half-day. I picked Martha up just after ten and we went to a coffee shop for breakfast. Martha had something ridiculous that included waffles, strawberries and cream. That's not breakfast, that's dessert. I had something pancakey which was practically a dessert except for the bacon topping. Martha's mum had a coffee. Decaff. We observed that species of mummy often referred to as yummy. It was like being in an episode of Motherland.
Martha and I parted company with her mother and my daughter and we had a very quick dash around the charity shops before picking up Evie. We then went to the Factory Craft Shop where I bought some glue (for a purpose) and some knitting yarn (for a purpose) and to Lynas for Haribo (for St Patrick's Day) then home.
Home then to find Young Loveheart and two bags of sausage rolls. Happy days for Bert and Evie who had not been in an episode of Motherland with waffles, pancakes and cream. Next to arrive were the girl's parents and they and I went off to the woods to plant rowans, oaks, hawthorn, hornbeam and birch. Loveheart and Bert did something mysterious, Martha worked off the Motherland carbs on the trampoline and Evie made a grave marker for Holly, and then watched Netflix. We all had a very enjoyable afternoon. The best St Patrick's Day in an age and not a shamrock in sight.
Evie made this beautiful marker for Holly de Cat. It will be placed on the grave when the yacht varnish dries.
3 comments:
What a great day
It was. I really appreciate the great days.
Excellent work by Evie
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