.

 Since my children were small, I've made a great fuss over St. Patrick's Day. It was not something we did growing up in Ireland, but as a treat to amuse my wee ones years ago, I began to colour their milk and potatoes green for this special day.

.

The notion exploded, and really...how was I to know they would never get over it? Now a table of full-grown adults, and whomever else we can con into it graciously invite, gather at table each year to partake of green wine and a motley assortment of viridian-tinged victuals.

 It is great sport to check out the reactions. We've had guests who were quite unable to eat at the sight of dark, mushy peas crowding up against lividly-tinted spuds...and skinless chicken that glows fluorescent green on the outside and is fish-belly white when cut seems to repel everyone.

.

.

 It must be said, however,

 that others have fit

 right in, stuffing

 food into their mouths 

in the knowledge that 

it all tastes just 

the same 

anyway.

. 

These people we embrace  

into the family!

.  

.

This year, scheduling conflicts force us to postpone celebrations

 until next week...cancelling was not an option, apparently!

.

.

 I leave you

 with a few photos of previous dinners, and a collage of my girl

 Meeghan in her

 St. Paddy's Day pullover.

.

But should you hear the raucous sound of the Pogues somewhere in tomorrow's celebrations, you'll know I'm having a grand oul' time singing along with them!

.

Have yourself a wonderful day!