Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! ~ If I weren’t Italian I’d want to be Irish


Happy Saint Patrick’s Day 2017! 

Below is my Saint Patrick’s Day Post from 2015. I edited it a bit and decided to share it again. I am currently at my daughter’s house, taking care of two of my three grandkids, G and E.

G and E are 5 and 3 years old. Today G informed me that “the Leprechaun at school was crazy.” Apparently the class went out for some activity, and when they returned they saw that the Leprechaun had made a big mess of some building blocks.

E is not in school. He still spoke of St. Patrick’s Day though, and is sporting a green socks and a shirt that reads: “I’m not Irish but Kiss Me Anyway.”

Even E agrees that Saint Patrick’s Day is way cool. If I weren’t Italian I would want to be Irish.




Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! Everyone wishes they were Irish today. 🙂 🍀 What a great heritage the Irish enjoy, especially today.

I come from Italian roots on my dad’s side, and English roots on mom’s side. My mother sort of became Italian by default, though she does still cook in in a manner handed down from her mother, who was born in the North Carolina Blue Ridge. Mom’s ancestors came to America from England in the 1700’s. Some old world Celtic traditions were handed down in that part of Appalachia, so maybe it’s not so strange that I enjoy this Irish holiday.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day

Who wouldn’t? The Irish are fun.

They drink great beer. Irish dancing is a wonder to behold. Irish cabled sweaters are intricate and cool. I plan to knit one for my husband before long. There are lots of fun traditions associated with St. Patrick’s Day.

My daughter went to Ireland during her junior year of college. I don’t know how she managed it, as she was working her way through as a waitress, and due to her penchant for parking on the wrong side of the street, she seemed to be keeping the borough of West Chester, PA in business through constant parking tickets, fines and the like.

However, somehow she managed a trip to Ireland. I don’t know all that went on, of course. After all, she was in college. I do remember hearing that she narrowly escaped a bar fight in Limerick.

She’s lucky. Back then, my 5’2” little girl weighed approximately 102 pounds, soaking wet. Today, 14 years later, she’s about three pounds heavier. (Unfortunately for me, she got her weight genes from her father.)

My husband and I worried about her for the duration of the trip, of course. That’s only to be expected. However, she does have a beautiful little daughter of her own now. Someday she’ll know how we felt. Paybacks, as they say, are hell.

St Patrick of Ireland

St. Patrick is one of the most beloved and well known saints in the Church.

I love to look at the stained glass window depicting him in my own parish church. There are lovely prayer traditions associated with St. Patrick.

From Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

Christ be with me
Christ before me
Christ behind me
Christ in me
Christ beneath me
Christ above me
Christ on my right
Christ on my left
Christ where I lie
Christ where I sit
Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man
who thinks of me
Christ in the mouth of every man
who speaks of me
Christ in every eye that sees me
Christ in every ear that hears me
Salvation is of the Lord.

There are many Irish prayers, blessings and sayings that have come down through the ages. All are poetic and beautiful, and sometimes sad.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there… I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow…
I am the diamond glints on snow…
I am the sunlight on ripened grain…
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of gentle birds in circling flight…
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry—
I am not there… I did not die…


May neighbours respect you,
Trouble neglect you,
The angels protect you,
And heaven accept you.


I hope everyone reading this has a fun and blessed St. Patrick’s Day. I think I’ll see if my grandkids are doing anything special today. Maybe they will make me a construction paper shamrock. 🙂



There’s not much to add to the above, except for the following video, “Lord of the Dance.”


I like to watch Irish dancing, especially Michael Flatley. Seeing Riverdance is on my Bucket list. If only I could get my husband to take me…

Incidentally, my new novel, Cadáin’s Watch, contains a character of Irish ancestry. The character is Michael Sean Wallace, protagonist Jason Wallace’s long lost father.

Part of the father-son story is based on the tradition of the Will O’ the Wisp, or Tine Ghealáin in Irish folklore.


Irish folkloric figure. What is called in other lands the will-o’-the-wisp, a light seen over bogs at night, was said in Ireland to be a lantern carried by a dead gambler doomed to wander forever because, although his soul was too stained to enter heaven, he had won his way out of hell by beating the devil at cards. His name was applied to the hollowed-out turnips (in the New World, pumpkins) used at samhain, when the veils between the worlds were thin.

I found many legends of the Will O’ the Wisp from many European countries, but it was a bit difficult to find the Irish version. However, I did find it on some Celtic folklore website that I can’t find today.

The above comes from an online Irish translation site. I also learned how to pronounce the phrase Tine Ghealáin from a different online site where you can listen to the words in Irish.

To find out how I incorporated this legend into my story, read the preview at the link below. And if you like the preview, please hit that buy button, read the book, and PLEASE write a review or a few sentences about what you liked or didn’t like about the book on Amazon.

Yes, I am begging for book reviews! Independent authors need as many reviews as possible for their books to get noticed. Getting noticed means selling more books and having more resources to put toward the next book. 🙂

Wishing all who read this a very happy Saint Patrick’s Day!


Related Post:
Grandkids and the Grandparents who are Exhausted by Them


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