The month of March makes me think of Ireland; all because of it’s 17th day. The day on which Americans sport the every-vibrant shade of the emerald isle.
Side Note: When I was young, I hated St. Patrick’s Day. I wanted to be different, so if I would wear green, it would be un-noticeable enough to get me pinched. Oooo, I hated that lame excuse to pinch a person it would otherwise be inappropriate to touch. It just seemed a little absurd to me.
Nevertheless, after having had the extraordinary opportunity to see the actual green that defines the day of the Irish, I am slightly more inclined to enjoy the America-fabricated Irish holiday … simply because it brings back beautiful memories of a nearly enchanted land.
To top off my Irish musings, it’s raining right now. If only I could curl up next to the fire while eating a hot bowl of Irish stew … it would be grand {“grand” being the Irish equivalent of the American “awesome”}!
I do realize that whenever something is even relatively close to anything Irish, like St. Patrick’s Day, I never cease to reflect on my adventure, which thus includes the posting of more Ireland pictures. But hey, I’m not going to apologize. It’s just what happens.
