Being in Los Angeles this St. Patrick’s makes me homesick for the East, and for South Boston. Usually my St. Paddy’s day involves some form of a one Miss Katie and her fabulous Leprechaun boyfriend. And all the Irish friends that live about those parts.
I miss the cold, the layers, the Irish being proud of themselves (more so on this day than others) and the bars that are so clearly Irish. Oh, Solas, a night without you is sad this March 17.
Things I miss about the East, and St. Paddy’s day:
1. People calling you “lass”
2. “Top of the morning to ya” (“and the rest of the day to yourself,” which is the proper response.)
3. The Irish Blessing heard about the city (I am listening to bag pipes outside my window at work, so that’s OK.)
4. Green everwhere, signifying the beginning of Spring
6. Everyone discussing how they are Irish
7. Red Sox shirts everywhere (with a shamrock, or without, we’re pretty lenient)
8. Green dyed food (such as donuts at DD)
9. The word “wicked” thrown into every sentence (St. Paddy’s day, or not)
10. People who actually go to church on the Saints’ days.