Today’s earworm belies G.K. Chesterton’s dictum that the great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, for all their wars are merry and all their songs are sad.
Because—of course, we’re
talking about whiskey. A word derived from the Gaelic uisce beatha,
meaning “water of life”.
Here are the Clancy Brothers
and Tommy Makem singing “Whiskey, You’re the Devil”.
Slàinthe mhath!
A special Saint Patrick’s Day edition of Car License Plates.
Póg mo thóin means “kiss my ass” in Irish.
People decorate their public-facing property in interesting ways. Not just at the holidays, either.
In fact—not even their own yards.
Viz:
I’ve probably walked past this guy a dozen times, but finally I
looked more closely. He’s been up to no good.
And then there’s this little…well, I don’t exactly know. A shrine? A woodside tableau? It’s just off one of the walking paths in the People’s Republic.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about these two sightings in the hood.
Should I be worried?
We here in the District They Call Columbia went from 60F on Friday to snow on Saturday. Yesterday morning it was 19F when I took my walk. March certainly faffs about.
But Saturday when I went out, while it was still snowing, I did
have to acknowledge that it was beautiful, and I was grateful to be reminded of
that.
Here’s what I mean.
