The morning is cloudy. We still have a wind but a lesser wind. The high is predicted to be 43° which is a cape spring temperature, but tonight could be winter with a predicted low of 36°. I have a couple of errands today, and I still have a long to do list. Yesterday I crossed off cleaning the living room. I even polished the furniture. My inner sloth was screaming the whole time. 

My schedule this week is uke heavy starting with practice tonight. I have three concerts on each of the next three days. I’m going to miss my afternoon naps.

I had seven goldfinches at the thistle feeders this morning. I added a new thistle feeder the other day after I had noticed the goldfinch traffic. Now, both feeders need to be refilled. I’ll also fill the sunflower feeders. I’m finding I spend more money on creature food than on my groceries. 

My mother loved watching the birds. We used to tease her because she seemed to get mostly pigeons. We called them country pigeons. One time even a seagull dropped by for dinner. She used to hang the feeders from the middle of her clothes line to keep them from the squirrels, but her squirrels were agile acrobats, tight rope walkers. We used to watch them from the kitchen window as they balanced their way across the line to the feeders. My mother had a special garden in the corner of her backyard. You could see it from the kitchen windows. A statue of St. Francis held his hand out to hold seeds. She had planted flowers all around the statue. The garden was fenced. One time my dog Maggie found her way into the garden. My mother yelled. I had to go get Maggie and fix the fence. She was the biggest “bird” ever to grace my mother’s garden.

In keeping with the season, my new jigsaw puzzle has an Easter theme. It has chocolate rabbits, decorated eggs, peeps and a giant Easter basket. I work on it just about every night. I’m at the point where I feel triumphant when I find the right spot for a piece. Jigsaw puzzles are addictive.

My dogs are having their morning naps. Nala is on the couch while Henry is upstairs on my bed. They have become sloths, my fault I’m sure. 

The weather is ugly. The wind started last night. I don’t when the rain started, but it is loud and heavy. The dog door was blown open by the wind. The floor is soaked so I had to close the back door, but I don’t think the dogs will mind. They are not rain dogs. It will rain all day. The temperature at 55° is wasted. 

When I was a kid, I went to St. Patrick’s grammar school. I always had today, St. Patrick’s Day, off from school. My parents often hosted a St. Patrick’s Day party on the weekend closest to the big day. My mother decorated, moved the dining room table against the wall and made so much food the table groaned. The house was filled with relatives. I remember the kitchen crammed with people singing Irish songs. The back door was always opened to clear the smoke. The temporary bar was on the counter.  It was always a celebration of food, drink and family. 

My mother always made corned beef and cabbage for dinner on the big day. If it was a weekend, I’d visit. One year I brought my dog Shauna, my first boxer, to visit and meet my parents. My father loved her right away and spoiled her. She loved him right back. While he was filling his plate with corned beef and cabbage, he made Shauna a plate. She had everything, even a slice of buttered Irish bread. She cleared the plate so well it looked clean. My father even gave her ice cream for dessert.

I have a concert this morning. I’ll wear my Irish sweatshirt, my shamrock fascinator and my glittery shamrock earrings. Later, I’ll watch a film befitting the day. I’m thinking The Quiet Man. I haven’t made a big dinner, but I’m thinking a sandwich with all the fixings might be in order. Maybe, in memory of my dad I’ll share it with the dogs.