Happy Saint Paddy's Day!

 Shocked and stunned, personally. Been mouching about all morning. No real concept of which day of the week it was. Finally decided to go and spend an hour or two, squaring off that corner of the rushes.

 Wandered up to Pat's place. Communed with Pony for a bit. Fed him his biscuits. Then headed over to the shed, to pick up my brush cutter.

 Just happened that Pat was coming out to his van. When I explained my plans, he looked horrified! " No ....! " He said. " Ye can't go cutting any rushes today! "

 I thought; 'Well; It didn't rain that much yesterday. And it's a bloody Bog anyway. Never exactly gonna be dry underfoot, is it?'

 But, then, Pat carried on; " No Irishman works on St. Paddy's Day! "  I'm like; ' Faaaaarkk!!! ' Never had a bloody clue!

 I knew it was coming. But, that was like days ago. Then it all got a bit nebulous. Now it's here, upon me, look. 

 And, as the only person I've spoken to thus far today, a natural born Irishman, has so generously, graciously and quite unconsciously embraced me within the terms of " Irishman ", I've felt honour bound to follow suit.

 Thus I've abandoned all thoughts of working today. I've come home and have tied on my Shamrock patterned dicklo. And now, here I am; Sat here with the first of a Great Many pints of Stout. (I also had a crafty nip of Jameson too. Just to rinse my gums with. More of that later!)

 I'm sure the entire UK, at least, will today be throbbing with 'Plastic Paddies', those who, on this day and this day only, seem to remember that their Great, Great, Great Uncle, on their Mothers Sister In Laws Brothers Mates side was 3/8ths Irish ~ or so family legend has it.

Green beer will be sold. Guinness will become suddenly favoured. The Real Irish, abroad, will go absolutely fucking ballistic. I raise a glass and salute you all!

 Now, let's get on with getting completely fucking slaughtered! It is, after all St. Paddy's Day.