Well, it's St. Patrick's Day, and while I'm not Irish, that's no excuse!I was married to an Irish Catholic from Boston.
My son has half that man's genes.
I suppose that makes me Irish by injection?
In addition, it is my sister's birthday. Here's to you, Miz Mary Patricia! She didn't have a chance, did she? The only name they could pin on her would be Mary Pat. And when we said, "But mom," in our whiny pre-teen voices, "Mary is such a plain name and there's so many Marys," my mother countered with, "We'll call her Patricia or Patty or Pat." Yeah, right. That never happened. She was and is Mary. We shouldn't have thought it would be any different. My dear maternal grandmother's name was Mary. My mother was 40 when she brought my sister into the world -- my sister, the last of six siblings, with me as the oldest. I was 14 years old when she was born -- well on my way to teenage angst, and I didn't need a newborn baby in the house to take the spotlight, idaresay. But funny thing about that -- we all loved her (and love her still) so very much. She was (and is) a JOY! So, Happy Birthday, Mary! Happy Birthday #43. EEEEK! (my only saving grace is that Mom's 83 now)
In my search for St. Patrick's Day Graphics, I came across this:
DARBY O'GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE...
... a Disney movie that came out in 1959 -- hyped on "Disneyland" (the tv show) by none other than Walt himself. I remember vividly even though was eight years old. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING... taking me to the theatre to watch that movie??? It scared the living s**t out of me! That damned banshee! I couldn't pass a dark room, worried about my closet, and basically freaked out for weeks. And death? Geez, that banshee took me over to sheer terror about death, and I don't think I've ever come out of its grips. Here we were, minding our own business, singin' and dancin' with the little Leprechauns (and wondering, "how'd they do that?" about the small people actors in the same frame with the regular people actors), when BAM! The banshee! Sooooo... here she is.... (always a woman, huh? geez)
Happy St. Patrick's Day all you Baby Boomers!
I know you're out there -- still freaked out about the banshee...not to mention... The Wagon of Death (that's another frightening graphic, headless coachmenand all... and I couldn't bring it here... shiver, shiver, shiver!)
Faith and begorrah!
1 comment:
Zeebee you always manage to touch one part of my soul.
DARBY O GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE.
My father took my sister and I to it when my aunt got married. My father refused to go to the wedding because my cousins had been asked to it but we weren't. No fighting, just the cousins got to be flower girls but not my sister and I. My father, God bless him, took us to see the movie.
It scared the pooh out of me. I couldn't sleep for months after it. That carriage floating into the sky probably the reason why I still need to visit Ireland. Little people - Little shmeaple.
And you have to also kiss the Blarney Stone upside down. I don't do upside down. I'm retarded that way.
My verification word is saudose. Mmmm in a pennydictionary that could be an alternative for brussell's sprouts.
Hugs
Zara
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