Thursday, March 17, 2011

And To That Isle, One Day I Shall Return

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When I was a teenager I had this poster sticky-tacked to my bedroom wall.


This St. Patrick's day,
in honor of the Irish, I have liberated myself from tyranny.

The tyranny of corned beef and cabbage.

I don' t like corned beef and cabbage, I don't like the boiled potatoes and carrots, and yet I'd allowed them to ruin my only March holiday for years. This year, I declared: no more.

I told Mr. V I wanted something elegant.

For St. Patrick's day?!?! He cried in disbelief.

Pub food then, I answered. Fish and chips. With Guinness.

Fine, said he.

I declared I should bake us a chocolate cake with green icing.

Corned beef and cabbage has released its icy grip, and our hearts can celebrate the Irish once again.


My grandma always wears a "Kiss Me I'm Irish" pin and for years we thought she was "just joking". Then we discovered we really do have ancestors from Ireland.

I'm not going to get all smug about it though, because we also have ancestors from England. They came in the 1600's. Which means there's a good chance some snobbish Saxon grandfather of ours spent his days hanging "Irish Need Not Apply" signs in his pub windows.


When I was sixteen
, I landed in Shannon, Ireland.

We drove in a tour bus along the Shannon river. The bus broke down and we wandered around the most charming, perfectly Irish village you could imagine. Thatched roofs, cobblestone streets, and a pub bursting song and fiddle and clinking glass into the emerald and gold tinted evening. We bought Adidas pants with orange stripes down the side, they were uncomfortable but in that year.

Everyone called me "love" and I liked to fancy it was because I looked like them.

Ireland was stunningly beautiful and I felt those old pagan people in my blood the entire time we were there, listening to Natalie Merchant's "King of May" over and over again on my discman and letting my imagination take me on beautiful adventures in other times.

I turned seventeen in Dublin. I went into a music store and talked to a young Irishman about Irish music. It was brave of me, at seventeen I was afraid of boys.

Somewhere in County Cork, or maybe along the Ring of Kerry, I bought the claddagh ring that I wear today as a wedding ring, because my aquamarine wedding stone offered itself up to the gods of the Pacific.

Ireland was lush, tropical. There were palm trees and enormous flowering plants. I still don't understand that.

Once on St. Patrick's day
I went to Starbucks.

I was sitting by the door.

An older gentlemen with a white beard and a newsboy cap passed me. As he did, he spoke in a thick brogue:

"A redhead wearing green on St. Patrick's day! Takes me back to home." And he winked in a charming Irish way as he passed through the door.

It was way better than that time the homeless busker on the 16th street mall called me "little freckles" and said I was "looking good" mid-improvised song.

I was only eleven.


I am Vesuvius and I dream of everywhere, but today I dream of Ireland.

4 comments:

  1. My whole life, I thought I was 100% Irish. My name means Irish girl, I have freckles, a temper..I mean, it all points to Irish, like my maiden name "McCulley". Well, then we did some family tree stuff and it turns out I half French. French? I don't want to be FRENCH!!

    Ahhh...you know what, I'm going to write a blog about that. Comment stopped.

    You are so Irish looking. I want Ryan to own a newsboy cap.

    ReplyDelete
  2. French is awesome! I am French in my heart. Paris is my city.

    If it's any consolation, I think you look French AND Irish. But with the name, you're totally skewing toward Erin.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I stopped by on my way to Hyperbole and a Half! :)

    We ate a plate full of the crock pot stuff and Aaron swore NEVER AGAIN to eat such a boring meal!

    I just found out my family is from Kilkenny. There are still Saunders running around and there's a castle there, I guess. :)

    I have always loved the mysterious magic of Ireland. I used Erin as Sienna's name for my Aaron and for Ireland. My father was so pleased I believe his bald head glowed just a little.

    Dalley McG

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hehe McG. I dig your Irish pride. Someday you will have to go to your castle! That's awesome.

    Stay classy. Thanks for stopping by.

    ReplyDelete

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