Irish tribute

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It wasn't until I was in Ireland that I reflected I was actually proud to be Irish. I'm a part of the illustrious (I laugh as I type that) O'Barr clan (via my mother's ancestry)... I laugh only because we're not your normal Irish "O'Brien" or "McCarthy." I have yet to meet an O'Barr that I am not related to. (However, I have met, even within my own church in KY, others that share my English last name and who, as far as I know, are unrelated to me.) A brief internet search tells me that perhaps they come from the county of Donegal. But I have no clue. When I was in Ireland, you could say I was enthralled by the beauty of the countryside, the simplicity of the people, and the slower pace of life. I am not sure I could live the rest of my days there, but it would do my soul some good to spend at least some extended amount of time there.

One story: It was my 20th birthday and I was in Dingle, a small town on the peninsula by the same name on the south west coast. We were going to have a spaghetti dinner. We went shopping in this quaint pantry of a grocery. It had two aisles, one cash register. Even then, it was crowded. I couldn't find what I was wanting. I don't remember now if I wanted a certain sauce, a type of butter, or a type of cheese. The middle aged woman working at the store inquired if I needed help. I replied that the store didn't have what I was looking for. Her kind, innocent reply was "Well, we have everything you could need." I couldn't help but smile and think to myself, "By golly, she's right! They have everything I need!" She had won me over with her gentility and simplicity, and for the moment, I was convinced. Ahh... the Irish.

Like the good Irish I am, I'm wearing green today... though I might have to take a raincheck on my pint o' beer until tomorrow... tonight I'm teaching high schoolers how to swing dance! If only I knew the jig.

Enjoy the shamrock hue of my blog for the weekend. :)