Have you ever heard the saying “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb”? Well at MY house it was more like March comes in like a laughing leprechaun and goes (far) out chased by a bunch of bunnies with a loony lamb. I kid you not (not!). March was one chaotic month, man.
(You probably know by now that I could be labeled a serial decorator. I don’t decorate with cereal – I eat it. But who knows the decorating potential inherent in an entire boxful of colorful Fruity Loops. Or perhaps a lovely untouched bowl of crispy flakes? A wee bit over the top? Yes! But I will give it future consideration.)
A laughing leprechaun reminded me that Saint Patrick’s Day was nearly over the rainbow and I’d better be decorating for the big day. Since this particular day is also the passing of me dear dad (15 years), I wanted to do him proud. Enough of this blarney: I wanted to decorate for myself and for all my Irish ancestors that came – and decorated -before me. I hope all of you like the photos you see. March is the month that really brings out the green in me. My doggie diva, “Rosie Colleen” loves St. Paddy’s almost as much as moi. You can tell by looking at her glam photo. (OK, we did have to bribe her with leftover corned beef. She was even willing to dance an Irish Jig for an entire chunk with cabbage.)
“Rosie Colleen, you back away from that Irish coffee!!! And don’t slurp me Guinness again either!”
The past couple of years I always seemed to be down with a heavy-duty cold or some unwanted virus, and found myself unable to celebrate in our fave Irish pub. You may recall that in previous years we “hired” a leprechaun who was willing to find the hubby and moi a parking space. Parking spaces in Berkeley are becoming more difficult to find what with population growth and a lot more (or so it seems) thirsty Cal students. Although I was running a little ragged I was dressed to shamrock ‘n roll in 2016 and nothing was going to stop me.
The traffic was madness per usual, and I can’t believe how craycray traffic has become in the East Bay. But the Luck ‘o the Irish was working for me that evening: Even without a leprechaun or the Parking Angel I forgot at home, we pulled the Mini into the best, I mean primo parking spot EVER. A group of departing revelers newly left a space for us practically in front of the pub’s door. We did have to claw our way through a crowd of costumed Irish dancers waiting on the sidewalk before their pub performance, however. It was so worth it. We also had to claw our way inside the pub as well. It was that packed, it was. People of all ages from happy hippies to many wee ones, and all having a grand time it seemed.
We were so very pleased to hear the band “Driving with Fergus” after our brief interruption of going to the pub. Their enlivening Irish melodies were in harmony with the aromatherapy of long- simmering corned-beef and the co-mingling of Guinness guzzlers. Come on. We’re talking Berkeley here, people! P.S. We were recognized by Tom Murphy, esteemed host of the annual Jerry Day birthday celebration in San Francisco! He appreciated the fact that we are festively- dressed regulars at this most high holy day for Deadheads. We wouldn’t have it any other way, would we Henry?
A few days later I was visited by the creeping crud, even though I thought I had held it back this year. (I did feel rather ragged on St. Pat’s, remember?) But I had to decorate for Easter ‘cause it was less than a week away. Now, the leprechauns (two) did not want to make way for any wascally wabbits. And they sure as heck weren’t gonna leave to make room for any Easter bunnies. Or so they said. (I did NOT touch a drop of any leftover Guinness.)
The leprechaun from me mantle said they better leave his pot ‘o gold alone. They both loved the flashing shamrock lights hanging in the living room window. As I unbundled the bunnies the “leps” got a wee bit testy and were ready to pull out their “hares.” Tee hee. Rosie Colleen began to chase the “leps” and the “hares,” and then leapt with the lamb which quickly went into hiding. “Silly lamb,” said Rosie. (I may have been feverish, folks.)
After St. Paddy’s reluctant departure for greener pastures, and soon after the leprechauns high-tailed it out of town, my Easter décor was finished in time for the neighbors to admire. The hubby and I had a fab Easter brunch, a wonderful restaurant dinner with family, and I wore a groovy red hat that me bro Billy Danny sent from Chicago. A stylin’ friend of his admired photos of hats that I have worn and personally embellished a beauty for moi! Such a lucky an gracious gift, I’m pleased to say.
I had one crazy month of March Madness where I devoured both gobs of Irish Soda bread and Hot Cross Buns less than two weeks apart. ( whole lotta raisins going on) I went from St. Patrick’s Day attire to Easter attire in the same timeframe. And somehow I managed to keep my decorating cred intact without missing a beat.
Peace, love, joy, laughter & yer very own Luck ‘o the Irish,