Any regular followers here know that I love an excuse — any excuse — to cook or eat something delicious. But St Patrick’s Day is more than that for me; it’s also a day to celebrate my Irish roots (I even wrote it in my planner in case anyone was curious about my claim to being Irish). Finally having a workplace to show off my green gear, I decked out in shirt, scarf, necklace, earrings, and badge reel, along with my Patrick rosary in its brocade pouch. Our work cafeteria even joined the fun with corned beef and cabbage and a special Irish themed sandwich, and the coffee shop had an Irish Brew latte (no whiskey, I promise). For dinner, I prepared Cumberland Pie and we had key lime pie leftover from National Pie Day.

Two days later, we attended the funeral of a longtime friend and mentor, a true Irish sister, sorority sister, and Girl Scout sister. She and her husband held wonderful St Patrick’s Day parties for most of their 53-year marriage, including a historic Jamison whiskey decanter that survived a house fire in 1979. Her service was a beautiful Irish Catholic mass in their ornate basilica followed by a rowdy wake in the fellowship hall basement. Erin go bragh!