HAPPY PADDY'S DAY

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, people. I am in the back of my (green) car as I write this, heading from Dublin to Galway. (We went to see Paloma Faith in Vicar St last night. A great gig - she is brilliantly bonkers.) We're scooting back to see the Middle Child in the parade in the 'Sloe, though he is threatening not to march. I think the memory of being temporarily lost after last year's parade is looming large in his mind. We'll see.

Anyway, I'm going to post one of my two Paddy's Day related poems for y'all and wish ye a Guinness-fuelled, green and happy day. Personally, I am not in the mood for alcohol at all today but a nice Irish dinner (spuds!) and a creme egg will do the trick. 

Beannachtaí na féile, oraibh!

Saint Patrick’s Day, Achill Island

‘Jamesie,’ she says to me, from the chair,
‘put the green frock on me today,
I’m feeling powerful festive.’
‘I will, Dolly,’ says I, ‘it’s the one colour
that brings up the gold in your hair.’
‘Don’t cod me,’ she roars, ‘the hair’s a disaster.’

We settle down, watch the parade on RTÉ,
and drink six bottles of porter apiece.
‘This is the life, Dolly, hah?’ I say,
but there isn’t a gug out of her;
all I hear are gulls and the hum-thrum
of a tractor going down the boreen.