It's St Patrick's Day. I find in England it is much less celebrated than it is in Canada; I suppose this is because the English intentionally differentiate themselves from Catholic Irish, whereas Canadians like to embrace the culture and the green beer that comes with their holiday. We flood Patrick O'Ryan's in Windsor and pack Sliante's in Hamilton on the average saturday night - and St Pat's is no exception whatever day of the week it should happen to fall!
Anyways, as it happens, I met someone recently, named Drewry. Obviously Irish. I thought of him today as I walked across the common - the sun shining, the grass green as ever and with the luck of the Irish on my mind. A few days ago, he passed along this springtime poem:
Spring is sprung, the grass is ris’, I wonder where dem birdies is?,
Why, the birds is on the wing – but that’s absurd, I always thought the wings was on the bird?Lucky charms. I used to eat the marshmallows last.
It's St Patrick's Day. I find in England it is much less celebrated than it is in Canada; I suppose this is because the English intentionally differentiate themselves from Catholic Irish, whereas Canadians like to embrace the culture and the green beer that comes with their holiday. We flood Patrick O'Ryan's in Windsor and pack Sliante's in Hamilton on the average saturday night - and St Pat's is no exception whatever day of the week it should happen to fall!
