They’re Always After Me Lucky Charms, or I Should Ease Up Before I Blow The Transaxle.

Both titles suggested by @bhoneydew, since I couldn’t figure out what to call this one.

Good grief, it appears to be March. Not only March, but mid-March. Time to figure out what the Monster’s doing this summer. Time to figure out what we’re doing this summer. Time to get out and do yard work and pretend to garden in weather that’s acting suspiciously like spring, only I know better, because it wouldn’t be the first time here where we’ve gotten hit by an Easter snow.

It’s also St. Patrick’s Day. Just had to look at the calendar to be reminded of that, since I had the feeling I was forgetting something, which is, yes, subtly different from my generally feeling like I’ve forgotten something. I think there’s a parade or something going on today, maybe?  Or maybe that was last weekend … no.  Now I remember that the MIL mentioned last weekend that there were going to be three back-to-back weekends of celebrations ’cause, lots of people of Irish descent around here, so yeah, that makes sense. It’s still a bit weird to me, but it makes sense.

I’m Irish-American, sorta kinda. Mom’s family is a mix of Irish and Scots with a generous dollop of Amerind (Blackfoot on one side, Cherokee up and down both sides of the other). While we did celebrate St. Patrick’s Day when I was a kid, it was also sorta kinda. We ate beef stew —

I didn’t eat lamb until I was an adult. Indeed, we eat quite a bit of lamb: and come to think of it, maybe I should make the butterflied leg of it I’ve got in the fridge.

— and fried cabbage (yum) and watched John Ford’s “The Quiet Man” if it happened to be playing on t.v. If we ever get to the point where we’re doing similar celebratory things at home, I’ll probably add Chris Columbus’ “Only the Lonely” to the movie watching list, just so I can get a full on Irish maudlin without the heavy drinking.

I’ve never been keen on the heavy drinking during family celebrations, especially when there’s children around. It wasn’t something I grew up with (that people served alcohol at weddings and after funerals came as a bit of culture shock to me), and I imagine it’ll always be something I’ll never be wholly comfortable with.  Frequently amused by? Oh, sure. I think drunk people are pretty funny to watch, especially if there’s no obvious reason for me to have to punch them in the throat.

We didn’t have a local St. Patrick’s parade when I was a kid. Didn’t decorate much, if we even bothered.  Nor did we make leprechaun traps.

I’d never even heard of a leprechaun trap until last year.  The Monster had to make one of those for school, and I was like … what’s this noise?  Why would anyone in their right mind want to trap a leprechaun? Did they learn nothing from the movie? We sent in a shoebox — cleverly labeled as an óstán do leipreacháin, thanks to Google Translate — with a green blanket to snag the fiend in, and a Nerf bowling pin that could be used to club the daylights out of  it.

I figure I’m now probably on a list somewhere.

Speaking of lists, the list of first quarter writing projects is almost cleared out.  The short story (which was version #3, after the first two wanted to be novels so badly that I threw each of them in a drawer and started over) was rejected quickly, with a comment that it should be a novel. Win. Sometimes. I. Cannot.  It makes me want to kick myself because I shelved the two novel-wanna-bes to get the damn thing into shape, and that took so much time that I decided not to take advantage of another potential opportunity.

I had a similar experience with another piece I handed in recently. I turned in a couple of paragraphs that I thought fit the subject, and the piece got bounced back because it was too short. This is me, right? Me who anyone in their right mind should not want writing long — and that I do it all the time at work is completely beside the point, yo.  So, eh, I said (silently) ‘screw it, cope with the fear you’re about to experience’, threw a few K words back … and, with the exception of needing to make a few minor tweaks, it was supposedly perfect. Huh.

One of these days, I’m going to figure this whole thing out, and when I do…

Okay, I’m not sure what’ll happen when I do, but, whatever.

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