Irish musings on St. Patrick's Day

First of all, my favorite Irish themed saying:

May those that love us, love us.
And those that don't love us, may God turn their hearts.
And if He cannot turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles,
So we may know them by their limping.

The corned beef is in the crockpot and I'm dressed for the occasion. Not in green, I don't own any green, unless I wear my jacket all day.  So I'm wearing orange.  Not as a political or religious statement, just because it's what I have. So don't you green-wearers hate me ;-)

If you ever have the chance - and the time - read Frank Delany's book, Ireland.  It's fantastic.  It gives you a history of Ireland, all wrapped up in a tale of an itinerant storyteller and a boy who loved him enough not to let him, or his stories, be forgotten.

Although I have an Irish maiden name, I don't think I'm Irish. My paternal grandfather was adopted (he was an "Orphan Train" child) and his biological parents' lineage is cloudy, but from what we do know, it doesn't appear that either of them were Irish.  So I guess you'd say I'm Irish by marriage. And throughout that marriage, which has spanned 2/3 of my life, I have learned two truths:

You can always tell an Irishman . . . but you can't tell him much!

and:

When Irish eyes are smiling . . . they're usually up to something!