Friday, March 17, 2006

My St. Patrick's Day

My day started as usual: up by dawn, sipping coffee and checking email, watching the neighborhood matriarchs march by. From the spry youngster in her sixties to the more mature matron in her nineties, these ladies are perfectly coiffed, not a hair or an eyelash out of place.

An email message from Charlie caught my eye. You may remember my trickster department chairman, the one with his own dry cleaners. Apparently I included an unmentionable in the last load of clothing I gave him. I sank with embarrassment as I read. How exactly does one respond to that sort of message from your boss? Luckily I was able to avoid him all day.

After school I stopped by the neighborhood pub for a glass of Guinness with the usual crowd. Barbara Anne rolled up in her motorized scooter and wobbled inside with her cane. She ordered a whisky with ice and polished it off. After her second the sweet bartender wrapped her up in her coat and sent her rolling away. A few minutes later the bartender of a another pub called to ask if we might have Barbara Anne’s coat. It’s a mystery what she does on that scooter. We just hope she doesn’t drive drunk.

By the time I got home the postman had come, and I discovered a letter from Billie Sue. Here’s what I found inside:

Crisp green cash
St. Patty’s Day stickers
And a little green note that read

When Irish Eyes are smiling very big and the piper plays a jig, here’s a little green to eat some pig

signed Mom.

So that’s what we did: ate a yummy (not-so-Irish) meal.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you and yours!

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