Archive for March 2023
“To beautify the Earth is the supreme Art.”
March 18, 2023The morning is damp from last night’s rain. It is already 46°. The sky is light grey cloudy and is supposed to stay cloudy all day. I have an empty dance card.
Today’s chores are the same as yesterday’s chores because I was a sloth the whole day.
I am watching a science fiction film from 1958, It, the Terror from Outer Space. If tradition had served me, I’d be sitting on the floor in my pajamas eating my cereal and watching the movie. I wouldn’t notice the cheesy painted backgrounds of Mars and of star-studded space or that the rocket ship is as big as a house with huge rooms and several floors. The movie takes place in 1973. The two women crew members are serving coffee and sandwiches to the male crew sitting at the table eating lunch and smoking cigarettes. This is a rescue mission. Only one of the first Mars’ space landing crew has been rescued. He is accused of killing his shipmates. That’s the plot so far.
When I lived in Ghana, in Bolgatanga, the only seasons were the dry and the rainy. When the rains started, green shoots began to pop out of the once dusty ground. They reminded me of spring but a dramatic spring. Behind my house, in the field beyond the fence, the tiny, green shoots of millet appeared. Everything came alive, fed by the rains. The growing season was in full array. Millet covered the whole field, and when it grew tall, the compound at the far end of the field would disappear behind the stalks.
The first crocus gives me the same elation I felt when I saw the tiny millet plants. Back then I was saying good-bye to the dry season while here it is a less than fond farewell to winter. The first crocus this year was yellow followed by purple. Each new flower is a renewal, a hopeful sign.
When Irish Eyes Are Smiling: Bing Crosby
March 17, 2023Molly Malone: The Outlanders
March 17, 2023Seven Old Ladies: Charlie Taylor and his Irish Minstrels
March 17, 2023Finnegan’s Wake: The Dubliners
March 17, 2023I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen: The Houghton Weavers
March 17, 2023
“May the luck of the Irish enfold you. May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.”
March 17, 2023The sky is beginning to have spots of blue, and I can see a bit of sunlight. It will be warm, as high as 50°, but the ever-present wind, blowing the highest pine branches left and right then back again, makes it feel colder. I have white lights to hang on the deck rail so that will be my fresh air for the day.
When I was a kid, we always had St. Patrick’s Day off from school because that was the name of my parish, my church and school. Mostly I did Saturday sorts of thing like riding my bike or walking uptown to the library. I wore green in honor of the day. My mother didn’t make corned beef and cabbage as she knew we’d grimace and groan about all the vegetables. Cabbage smelled bad. The only parts of the meal we would have eaten were the meat and potatoes. That all changed when we were older.
My father loved a boiled dinner, a traditional New England name for corned beef and cabbage, any time of year. I remember the giant pot on the stove, and my father filling his dish more than once from the pot. When I was there one St. Patrick’s Day with my dog Shauna, my first boxer, my father gave her a plate filled with everything but the cabbage and onions. She ate on the floor, and he sat in his usual spot on the couch. They both had ice cream for dessert. One St. Patrick’s Day, my father hunted in the pot for the potatoes. He found none, at least none left. They had disintegrated. My father’s disappointment was so keen I could see it in face and in the way he walked back to the living room. My mother didn’t know what to say. Comfort would only have come from potatoes.
When I marched with St. Patrick’s Shamrocks, a drill team or rather the drill team, we marched in the St. Patrick’s Day parade in South Boston a few times. I remember one really cold day. I also remember some spectators trying to join us in the march. They had been imbibing in some local establishments. They kindly offered us a wee taste before they were shooed away.
Today I will celebrate St.Patrick’s Day by wearing green and dining on corned beef and cabbage. It will have potatoes, and I will not share with the dogs.
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