Ah St. Patrick...

Ah St. Patrick, are ya rolling in yer grave?
(Everyone: repeat that last sentence with a bit of a brogue.) All those stories about you and the snakes... and now some megamammoth country in the West celebrates your feast day as the biggest drinking holiday of the year. Whadda ya gonna do? as my friend's ex-mother-in-law used to say.

Well, in my community, we were celebrating too. We sang your first vespers last night and this morning and noon extolled your bringing the faith to the Irish people.

However, since we are Americans (and Episcopalians) and not to be outdone by our secular counterparts, (or only to be outdone in the sense of no moderation) we also celebrated your feast day... with corned beef, cabbage, Irish soda bread, and wine and beer. Killian Red to be exact... none of that green goop for us.

We ate in silence and drank to your health (or at least your spiritual health) in silence, and in absolute moderation. Except... I had poured a glass of red wine for one of my sisters who really wanted white. (It was corned beef, but she is a vegetarian... white must be the preferred color for vegetables, sort of like fish or chicken. Anyway, I had to pour her a glass of white , which left an extra glass of red that nobody wanted (since we were drinking in moderation) so... not wanting to waste good wine (waste not, want not, as St. Patrick used to say... or was that my grandmother?) Never mind. I drank the aforementioned glass (actually chug-a-lugged it since sister was waiting to wash the glass.)

All that said, I should probably not be blogging... except I haven't mentioned anything outlandish or derogatory about anyone except myself. And I will certainly sleep well tonight. Sweet dreams, St. Patrick.