The real St P’s Day

So there was this guy. Dunno where he was from – either Scotland or Wales, certainly not Ireland. Anyway he got kidnapped by pirates, played with wild animals and clover thingies, and managed to seriously ingratiate himself with the RC church. Now folks from all over the world dye their beer green and get annihalated in his memory. 

Let’s start again. There was this beautiful girl. From Peterborough. Her name is Pippilotta Price and she was born on the 17th of March 2002.  Here she is. She turns 7 today so lets all go out and celebrate, woohoooooo!!!! 

 

(Not the beautiful girl in the green - the one in the spots)

(Not the beautiful girl in the green - the one in the spots)

OK I do miss my doog a lot. You can’t really talk to her on the phone like you can your family – not that I don’t try. But I won’t pretend to be entirely cynical about St Patrick’s day either. I mean, I’ve had some fun ones. Like a couple of years ago with my parents in Luxembourg, in the Irish tent in place d’armes. We watched France thrash Scotland thus winning the good nations over Ireland, tried to avoid rows of makeupedtotheeyeballs tinyweegirls doing irish dancing, and listened to bands play 10 different versions of the Fields of Athenrye and Whisky in the Jar. Or was it 20.  

Mum says when she was a kid, they just tied a sprig of green stuff to their shirt and went to mass. And I’ll probably end up in a pub in Wanchai full of Americans and vodka.  Lots of people are pretty scathing about American/Brits etc and their “St Patty’s day” – grumble grumble all those plastics who think they’re irish because their great-grandma’s piano teacher had an irish setter moan moan. But I guess any excuse for a party is a good one. And besides, irishamerican can be seen as a culture in its own right. Not irish, not american, but irishamerican. Also hope those NI politicians will be doing a bit of St P’ing, and averting their local version of the apocalypse. 

But just remember – the real St P is that lovely wee dal, another year old, probably getting a bit fat, still proof that our family is completely insane when it comes to animals. Dad may be cooking her a steak as I type.

Update: Steak is confirmed.

I wonder if they scraped it into a dog bowl for her first...

I wonder if they scraped it into a dog bowl for her first...

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One Response to “The real St P’s Day”

  1. wonker Says:

    Interesting blog, I’ll try and spread the word.

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