It is March 17th…otherwise known as St. Patrick’s Day. This is the day the color green is a fashion statement and everyone wants to be Irish or at least Celtic. When my son was a teen, he pestered my mother until she located an Irish branch of our family tree. I don’t know how she did it, but she did… you know grandmas. So, the joke around our house is that my son has 16 drops of Irish blood. In fact, he even gave his oldest daughter a Celtic name. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
This is also the one day we partake in drinking traditional Irish Stout beer. My husband is very excited about this and looks forward to it every year. The beer has to be from the tap. Meaning I can’t just pick it up at the store. That is not an option, I tried. As you can see, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. So now we have to locate the restaurants that actually have Guinness Stout on tap and try to get in for dinner. Not an easy undertaking on the seventeenth of March.
I don’t usually drink beer, mostly because I don’t like it. I do have enough experience to say, there is beer and then there is Guinness. It is in a class by itself. Not to step on any beer connoisseurs toes, but it tastes awful. Last fall we were in a trendy little bar that offered fruity beers, now that’s more my speed. Guinness is not for the faint of heart.
So, once a year, I don my greenest clothing, search out the Irish pubs in the area, make arrangements to meet the family there and order myself a delicious glass of Guinness Irish Stout. Yes, I am a good sport and I actually drink it. Ahhh…the things we do for love!