Now, I gather that Pope J2P2 had attempted to strip Patrick of his sainthood some time back.)
(why? did he fear that Patrick looked better in green that he did?You be the judge!
Anyway, since I'm not sure of that status of that situation, not being Catholic nor Irish, I'll just call him Patrick.)
I assume, for the purpose of this blog post, that Patrick did not get stripped of angel status as well.Now, why would he be robed in blue?
Well, believe it or not, according to Wikipedia one of his colours is blue. St Patrick's Blue, to be exact.And you know I believe everything in Wikipedia.
Besides, this mysterious blue hued lady dropped by my apartment earlier today and confirmed the story.If you don't believe me, here's the proof - some mysterious objects she left with me:
What am I going on about now? you ask. Gentle reader, all will be revealed, but you'll have to bear with me a while longer.
You see, I would have told you before today that I don't really like green. As I said, I'm not Irish. (I live with someone who is Irish, his parents having been Irish, but he refuses to identify himself as Irish. Long story. I'm sure if you bring him a bottle of some malt whisky - any malt whisky! he'd love to share all with you.
However, I had to revise this opinion when looking through the stash today:Now, a lot of it has blue in it - so that's my excuse. But still, quite a bit of green. Hmm.
Now, blue, in addition to being a St. Patrick colour, is my favourite colour this week, and also the colour of Scotland where JJ insists his heart lies. So, in light of this, I think that now the mystery lace project will have to be made with this yarn, as I'm going to start it on or just before the feast day of Patrick.
(Oh, I forgot this stuff:
Man alive - do I ever have a short memory!!)
Now, we did not go to the big Patrick parade today... J "shurrup woman, ah keep tellin' ya ah'm no' irish, ah'm scottish! OHKEH???" J wouldn't hear of it. Just as well because parades freak me out.
Instead, we went food shopping. There should actually be a house rule that we never go food shopping on any day which directly follows both household paydays (which happens fairly rarely). Why? This is the end result:
And, just to prove that no-one Irish actually resides in this apartment, there's none o' that colcannan, bridie or boiled corned beef crap here. No way. Top of the line for us non-Irish people.
Of course, there will be no green beer either - nor any of that whisky spelled with an "E":
(Oops, channeling JJ again. )
Now, the President will be doing most of the catering of this wee do... and since I'm Greek I don't like any of that British/Scottish/Irish muck anyway:
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Some more Medi stuff:
However, never let it be said that I don't know about compromise. Here is the
And dessert:
I'm very, very happy to be finished - I'll bore you more later in the week on the whole shootin' match should you bother to check in after all this nonsense today.
But, for all of the reasons discussed above, I felt this would be a suitable tribute to Patrick.
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