Tuesday, 17 March 2015

St. Patty's Day Memories

I don't recall ever doing anything especially noteworthy for St. Patrick's Day as a child. In elementary school, we cut shamrocks out of green construction paper, combed the playground for four-leafed clover and coloured-in leprechauns and pots of gold at the end of rainbows with crayons, later coloured pencils. I remember learning about St. Patrick in school... We may well have made circle streamers and other decorations to display at home and my mom surely baked and dressed a thematic cake but no memories pop out distinctly.
The only St. Patty's Day memory from childhood that I recall with much clarity is one I remember quite fondly. Full of the mystical wonder of childhood on a bright spring morning, walking with my mom and brother down our long, curved, tree-lined, rural Alberta driveway to catch the school bus we speculated about the sneaky habits of the leprechaun. Where did they live around here? How could we set a trap? What would we wish for if we caught one? All while searching for tiny leprechaun footprints in the snow.*
As an adult, I never felt the need to party on St. Patrick's Day, to drink green beer or to get drunk.** The only adult St. Patrick's Day story I have to share is only a SPD story by default. I planned a surprise party for hubby's 30th birthday; it happened to fall on the green holiday. We had some green hats and streamers but nothing over the top. I told him a friend was having a stag and doe party on the day and that they ended up needing his assistance at the last minute with something I couldn't do for some reason. I don't remember the exact lie but I remember he REALLY didn't want to come and I had to pretty much beg until my friend piped up beside me to say she'd pay him. That did the trick. Needless to say, he was surprised.
Purchase Leprecadaver, the leprechaun zombie gnome on Etsy from RevanentFX!
My Irish heritage was something I've always known about though it was never really celebrated within my family like it was in the families of some of my friends. Perhaps that's because my Irish relatives have been in Canada for well over 150 years now. Also, probably, because it was only my mom's paternal side that was Irish and we didn't have much to do with them on a regular basis.

I knew my Irish ancestors came over because of The Potato Famine (I had yet to learn there was more than one famine), that there were two brothers - one who settled on the Quebec side of the Ottawa River and the other who settled on the Ottawa side. Annnnd that's about it. To date, I have a copy of other family members' work on our shared genealogy but have not entirely verified everything for myself, to my own satisfaction nor that of the BCG Standards manual.

Yes, The Asterisks Mean Something

* Yes, spring with snowbanks. Such is weather in Canada and Alberta. Fun, eh?

** I've never been a drinker, to be honest. I'll maybe partake of a daiquiri or a beer or a glass of sangria once in a while but I've never been drunk in my life and don't particularly plan to be... although one New Years Eve at home with hubby I did actually TRY to get drunk. I drank a couple of beer and almost an entire bottle of champagne by myself, but... nada. Nothing happened. No tipsy. No woozy. No hangover-esque feelings the next day. I was disappointed, stupidly, but I've never tried it again. Realistically, I think I'd just find a corner, curl up and go to sleep anyway.

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