I am in Elizabeth City on this fair morning- the day that belongs to anyone with even a bit of Irish blood in their veins has dawned with birds singing. I came on Wednesday night, Brant and Sydney arrived on Thursday. We have been cooking ever since.
Jenny has her house decorated with shamrock plants, displays of green glass and gold coins. Lyla has a beautiful little Irish Linen dress on this morning and an Irish fairy costume for later. We are after all, “a bit Irish.”
A few generations back, Henderson McDuffy Leary and his brother, Enoch settled not too far from Lake Phelps, where my sister, Connie lives today. We claim our heritage and are known to boast about it on occasion, though we laugh at jokes about the irish without malice. True to our nature, we do exhibit a “tribal mentality”. If someone crosses one of us, we are every one offended and quite likely to raise a ruckus. I, who do not kill bugs, will start the commotion. Thankfully, this does not happen often, but when it does, it leaves a memorable impression for years-long after, we have forgiven the offender. We do not quarrel amongst ourselves as it seems especially sinful, and besides that, I tell them with my hand over my heart, “I couldn’t bear for one of you to speak a word against one another.”- and I mean it.
We are every bit as sentimental as we are known to be. I cry at the drop of a hat, at things beautiful or the least bit sad. We are a soft hearted lot and because of that we are generous. We have great respect for all of the earth, and consider whatever patch we live on, about sacred. I hardly think such attributes are only found in the Irish, but I have noticed on more than one occasion, they are apt to be true-and I must say so, being it is St. Patricks’ Day, after all.
The cake is iced at last, and the final loaf of bread is almost done. It is past four and guests arrive at five. I have been in the kitchen, the better part of the day but I have stolen away to the porch several times and noticed the dog tooth violets blooming in the yards up and down the street. The laughing river just smiled today and was as blue as I have ever seen it. Finally, a day came about that was mild enough for one to sit in the open air and watch the sparrows carrying on with their great intentions.
We had just finished setting the table, when guests started arriving. Two families had babies and what a refreshing picture it made. They, like the young sparrows, so full of sweet intentions. Mandy, the darling of Pansy and Ivy came with a bouquet of Bells of Ireland and shamrock hydrangea. I had never seen this variety of hydrangea, but now I won’t soon forget it. Every petal boasted a perfect little shamrock that looked painted on.
Tonight, when I say good night to the world, I will “count my lucky stars” and be grateful to the Hand that placed them. I will be glad for sparrows and dog tooth violets-for kitchens to bake bread in and for little, Irish Linen dresses worn by a fairy, who is just a bit Irish.
What a lovely, quiet post. I’m Irish, too, though rather quiet about it myself. Three families came here together in the late 1700s, intermarried among themselves, and kept alive many of the traditions. They came from County Down, and my grandfather used to play for me on the fife my gr-gr-grandfather carried in the Civil War, and sing “Star of the County Down.” No green beer for those celebrations — but we had what we loved.
Such a beautiful blog post, I didn’t want it to finish.
Dearest Rabbit, you are such a rare treasure, and I give thanks for having found you.
God Bless you.
❤ ~ Cobs. x
My husbands family has a bit of the Irish in them. His Grandma always used to call our youngest son “her little Irish boy”. That might have had something to do with the sparkle in his eye, the grin on his face and the spattering of freckles over his nose.
Loved this post! Have a blessed weekend!
He is! Even though he is the tallest of our bunch he still has those sparkly eyes, quick wit and a few leftover freckles :). If you look at the wedding photo on my About page ….he is the groom.
I’m a day late and a dollar short but wishing you the blessings of an Irish prayer, May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.
Sounds as if you had a lovely St. Patrick’s day! And I think your description of the Irish is accurate. My father-in-law was 100% Irish, and he was also very sentimental. He tried to come across as a “tough” man, but whenever he saw something that touched his heart, we all had to pretend we didn’t notice how hard he was trying not to cry. We all still miss him so much!
Such a beautiful post. I have never seen Shamrock Hydrangea before, and they are simply stunning. I must see if they are available here in the emerald Isle…
What a lovely, quiet post. I’m Irish, too, though rather quiet about it myself. Three families came here together in the late 1700s, intermarried among themselves, and kept alive many of the traditions. They came from County Down, and my grandfather used to play for me on the fife my gr-gr-grandfather carried in the Civil War, and sing “Star of the County Down.” No green beer for those celebrations — but we had what we loved.
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that is a lovely story! what sweet memories you have. Thank you and I am glad you shared this.
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Such a beautiful blog post, I didn’t want it to finish.
Dearest Rabbit, you are such a rare treasure, and I give thanks for having found you.
God Bless you.
❤ ~ Cobs. x
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Thank you and I am glad we met too-your words are so dear to me. How they touch my heart strings!
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My husbands family has a bit of the Irish in them. His Grandma always used to call our youngest son “her little Irish boy”. That might have had something to do with the sparkle in his eye, the grin on his face and the spattering of freckles over his nose.
Loved this post! Have a blessed weekend!
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thank you and hope you are doing well. Your little Irish son must have been so darling.
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He is! Even though he is the tallest of our bunch he still has those sparkly eyes, quick wit and a few leftover freckles :). If you look at the wedding photo on my About page ….he is the groom.
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What a beautiful post. I could feel your kind and soft hearted nature come through it. Thank you for sharing with us.
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you are so kind-thank you!
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Beautiful post and lovely & unique flowers!!!
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I’m a day late and a dollar short but wishing you the blessings of an Irish prayer, May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.
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…and may you be in Heaven a half-hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Paz
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haha! you are quickly becoming a favorite of mine! thank you!
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There are a log of us with a bit (or a lot) of Irish in us! A belated Happy St Patrick’s Day to you! I hope you all enjoyed your day.
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of course, you would have some irish blood-no wonder I loved you right off! thank you!
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Sounds as if you had a lovely St. Patrick’s day! And I think your description of the Irish is accurate. My father-in-law was 100% Irish, and he was also very sentimental. He tried to come across as a “tough” man, but whenever he saw something that touched his heart, we all had to pretend we didn’t notice how hard he was trying not to cry. We all still miss him so much!
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Such a beautiful post. I have never seen Shamrock Hydrangea before, and they are simply stunning. I must see if they are available here in the emerald Isle…
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they ought to be, I want to try rooting them! thank you.
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May you live as long as you want,
and never want as long as you live.
Seek peace,
Paz
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beautiful-same to you and thank you!
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