Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh

(La ale-lah pwad-rig son-ah jeev)
Happy St Patrick’s Day!

St Patrick’s Day and Christmas are the only festivals that Craig and I actually try and celebrate.

At my work the other day I had a conversation with a coworker that amounted to
CW : Do you have your leave sorted for Easter?
ME : No … when’s easter? I have my leave sorted for the day after St Patrick’s Day
CW : huh. When’s St Patrick’s Day?
Ah priorities.

Anything that advocates drunkeness is alright by me.
Drunken singing of crazy songs is even better.
Today Craig and I are both wearing green and tonight we will join a green sea in our local Irish Pub (Cheapest Guinness in Wellington!).

I mean, tonight we will be watching The Sound of Music and tomorrow we will be donating puppies to blind orphans. yes.

The other day I lost my Claddagh ring and ended up spending the better part of a day looking for it. I was actually quite upset, what with it coming up to St Patrick’s and all.
I’ve worn a claddagh since I was … 11? 10? 8? I must have been younger than 11. My cousin sent it to me when she was living in Ireland. So it really was an Irish Claddagh Ring. What? it was cool when I was in primary school.

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The traditional wedding ring of the Irish since the 17th Century, the Royal Claddagh ring is today worn by people all over the world as a universal symbol of love, loyalty, friendship and fidelity, and of their Irish heritage.

For love, we wear the heart. In friendship, we wear the hands. And, in loyalty and lasting fidelity: we wear the Royal Claddagh crown.

Worn on the right hand, with crown and heart facing out, the ring tells that the wearer’s heart is yet to be won. While under love’s spell it is worn with heart and crown facing inwards. Wearing the ring on the left hand, with the crown and heart facing inwards, signifies that your love has been requited.
from claddagh.com

My first Claddagh I wore so much that by the end it wore through. Split right along the seam where it had been sized and they told me there wasn’t enough silver to repair it. Poor worn out dead ring.
So naturally I went straight out and bought a replacement.
This one didn’t last long enough to wear out. At the time, I was working at a Subway restaurant (oh the shame) and as far as I can tell it ended up in a rubbish bin buried beneath plastic gloves and lettuce remnants. Even I have my limits.
My third Claddagh (and the one I’m wearing now) was bought for me by Craig after the plastic-y death of my previous one, it has a black sapphire heart, apparently to match the cold hard blackness of my own heart. He’s lucky that I love him.

I hope tonight lives up to the hype. I think last year I had to start work at 7am the next morning but this year I planned ahead and I have no work tomorrow. I needn’t get up at all!
Kat is going to come with us tonight, with a view to drinking and meeting some Irish (oirish) boys. I hope she knows that most of the people will be over fifty and that they don’t have eftpos – it’s a hardcore Irish Pub. But the drinking will be done.
Oo that reminds me. I don’t have any cash either. Must remedy that. Don’t forget!

(oh and I found my ring by the way)

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