HAPPY ST PATRICK'S DAY!
my mom was danish. she thought she was irish. she loved irish culture. she married an irish man and adopted his cultural heritage. on st patrick's day she would dig out her gramaphone (record player) and play all her favourite irish music. she loved "danny boy" best. she would sing "paddy mcguinty's goat at the top of her lungs.
we would go to the st patrick's day concert at(where else?) st patrick's hall. joe healy , would direct the concert. joe must have worked on broadway. he was a genius at musicals. all the children in parish would perform. dressed in green and white and wearing top hats with shamrocks.
today i couldn't be further away from that life. i am in florida. it is cool ( a mere 50 degrees!). it's quiet. we did go to the social club for coffee and donuts. a few people sported green. no one sang though and i haven't heard a peck of irish music. it warms the cockles of my heart to know that my sister jackie is singing " danny boy" , "when irish eyes are smiling", "on the rocky road to dublin" and " an irish lullaby" ( toora loora, loora)
and that somewhere in mother's heaven my mom is singing paddy mcguinty's goat.
and best of all i get to spend the day with a true irish colleen by the name of pat what could be more irish? i'll get her to tell me stories about her colourful irish bootlegger granny..........

sweet relief

they are home! the parents that is. i survived. it was hard but i survived and i think my grandsons still like me. the baby has been avoiding eye contact, he may be feeling a little guilty cheating on mommy ( the breast incident). it was an experience i would not have wanted to miss. it's like french immersion. being thrown in the middle of a pack of wild wolf puppies.
there were many benefits, one was to experience the essence of my daughter's home. and to feel the wonderful peace and family life she and her husband have created.
walking into their bedroom, flooded wiith afternoon sunlight , it felt a sacred place.
the boys are just amazing children, kind , sweet and peppered with enough michieviousness to be healthy rowdy boys.
reading stories at bedtime was my favourite thing. they are so saturated in creativity. great imaginations, reminding me that i once had access to that wonderful place of "make believe".
and i fell in love with the baby. blond and cherub looking. so loving and thoughtful. after wrestling him to change his poopy diaper he would say "tank you " his favourite words are "tank you " and "torry nan"
the teachers report that he has on several occassions clobbered another student. when i discuss it with him, our conversation goes like this:
nanny: did you have a good day at school today?
baby: yeth
nanny: the teacher says you hit someone. did you?
baby: no
nanny: you know it's not a nice thing to hit someone, don't you?
baby: torry nan!
nanny : you won't do it anymore will you?
baby: o tay nan!

you know he is the most unaggressive child at home, i can't believe he hits other kids at school. i suspect his back must be to the wall...............
so now i'm relishing in having no duties. and looking forward to the next leg of the journey. my play time in florida. it's somewhat like play school , we all ge t together everyday at the social center and play all day. i promise i will not hit anyone(unless they hit me first)