…the prodigal returns

Back where we came from, reluctant returnees.

St Patrick’s Day humbug


My brother always gives me a hard time about SPD. I don’t celebrate it, never have. And I have to confess, I pretty much hate the day.

This is mostly because the whole idea irritates me. Here’s poor old St Pat – supposedly born in England, kidnapped and taken to Ireland, where he was a slave for many years until his escape. Only later in life did he return to Ireland to convert them to Christianity. Or so the legend goes.

So, what’s this about great drunkenness, green beer, shamrocks and general carrying-on? Tears and “Danny Boy” ?? I don’t get the association. And the whole general fervor about the whole thing, whether you are Irish or not? Go figure.

So my brother was particularly amused when I said we were going to an Irish bar (TODAY, of all days) to video and photograph a gig. He thinks this is tacit approval of the day, but I continue to insist it’s just about the work!!

Author: Ann Larson

One-time IT executive who lives on a 22 acre olive farm in Spain with husband Kenton and 2 boxer dogs. We make Yunquera Gold olive oil, and soap and skincare products from same. We aim to make natural, fresh, and handmade products at affordable prices!

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