St. Paul has moved its St. Patrick's Day festivities from Monday--the actual holiday--to today. This is because the Archdiocese doesn't think St. Patrick's Day belongs in the middle of Holy Week.
I'm not entirely sure I understand this--wasn't he a saint? Aren't saints holy?--though to think of going from Palm Sunday to Saint Patrick's Day does represent a certain break in mood, I guess.
So the parade will be today. So will be Mass.
We usually do something fun for the holiday. One year Erik (he of kayaking fame) came to visit, and we dragged him downtown to the parade and then to the giant tent by Landmark Center, where they had Irish stew, and Guinness, and Summit Pale Ale, and step dancers and fiddle bands and rowdy people milling around in big green Dr. Seuss-type hats, with shamrocks painted on their faces, at 2 in the afternoon.
That was the year we got Riley, and it snowed tons that weekend. Erik and I took Riley over to the park and let him off the leash and he ran away. He was only about six months old, and still gangly, and not at all obedient, but instinct kicked in the minute he saw a rabbit, and zooooooom, he was gone.
He chased the rabbit through the snow, across the athletic field, through some bushes, up a small hill and across Lexington Parkway, which is normally a very busy thoroughfare. That day, thank goodness, there was so much snow that nobody was out driving.
I sank to my knees in the snow and called to him over and over again, and he stopped at the edge of the road. I can still picture him peering down the hill at me, cocking his little head, wondering if he should come back or not.
He eventually did (though I think he went to Erik and not to me), and I vowed never to let him off leash again until he had learned the word "Come!"
And then we went home and put on some fiddle music and had a beer.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day to you all, however you may celebrate it. And whenever.
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