Dancin’ a Jig with Saint Paddy

Contrary to the plans I had yesterday, Saint Patrick and I didn’t do much of a Celtic jig today. After a week of all-day classes and evenings of study, I discovered I had a To Do list that would have reached from County Cork to County Kildare. Thus, after today’s final class (I did get the certificate I need to apply to take the test for an insurance agent’s license), I came home, fed Alex, and began on the list.

By 9:00 p.m. I was exhausted. Still, I had promised me self that Saint Paddy and I would celebrate—he his day, of course, and me the end of the class—so I showered and put on my second green shirt of the day and headed out. Patrick’s, the Irish pub that’s the closest to me, was stuffed with people—most of them wearing green. So I changed direction and headed for The Irish Rover, which is second only to Molly Malone’s as my favorite Irish pub in Louisville.

At The Irish Rover the specter of Saint Paddy and I pushed our way into the bar section and realized that it would take quite a while to obtain a glass of fabled green beer. So, we established ourselves on the fringe of the crowd and talked to folk decked out in green and laughed and sang the Irish songs that I love so much.

Oh, Paddy dear, and did you hear
The news that's going round?
The shamrock is forbid by law
To grow on Irish ground!
St. Patrick's Day no more we'll keep,
His color can't be seen,
For there's a bloomin' law agin'
The wearing of the green.
~The Wearing of the Green

Well they fought for poor old Ireland
And full bitter was their fate
Oh! What glorious pride and sorrow
Fills the name of ninety-eight.
Yet, thank God, e’en still are beating
Hearts in manhood’s burning noon,
Who would follow in their footsteps
At the Risin’ of the Moon!
~The Risin' of the Moon

Eventually a pub waitress did enable me to drink one mug of Murphy’s Irish Stout. I’ll admit that I didn’t share it with Saint Paddy; I judged that he had had enough before I joined him this evening. Still, even though it wasn’t an extensive celebration, Saint Patrick and (Sometimes Saintly) Nick did have a “top of the evening” good time.

May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.