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There's nothing like Saint Patrick's Day

It was beautiful in Northern California today, once the wind died down. Cold but sunny. Brisk, I suppose you'd call it.  Or bracing? Anyway, it was the perfect day for the wearing of the you-know-what.

I was raised to love Saint Patrick's Day. Literally (almost). Not only were my parents wild about it, but I went to a parochial school where all the teachers were nuns who had come -- fairly recently -- from Ireland. Part of my love for learning probably came from the fact that my teachers had glorious brogues. What a way to learn.

We wore maroon and white uniforms, but on Saint Patrick's Day, we (the girls) wore green skirts and white blouses. The boys wore green ties with black pants. And we all went to the cafeteria and did a jig. It was so much fun -- the nuns taught us and they were adorable about it. All those stories you hear about mean nuns? Not at my school! They spoiled us rotten and taught us well.

I have no idea how the day is celebrated in Ireland, but in Rhode Island, with the influence of Boston nearby and the spirit of Ireland even closer, we thought it was The Best. The songs, the dancing... everything.

But has it ever been this close to Easter? It's freaking me out.

I hope you had a great day.

Kate

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