Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Yes, yes, I know it’s tomorrow but how I could I pass on wishing you a happy St. Patrick’s Day? It’s a blustery one in my neck of the woods, dear reader, but that just means the ol’ tri-color will get to dance more than usual.

Remember to be safe, make smart life choices, and don’t be alarmed at the, ah, noticeable after effects of all that green beer some of you are likely to drink.

And, of course, what would a St. Patrick’s Day celebration be without a few words from the late, great, W.B. Yeats?

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream,

And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire-a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

- “The Song of Wandering Aengus” by W.B. Yeats

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, all.

(and remember to use proper caution when bringing home strange fish)