Approaching Vernal Equinox

We have once again survived the conversion to daylight savings time. Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. We wish a happy one to those who celebrate. This morning a ball of Irish soda bread dough went into the oven and made the house smell wonderful for awhile as it baked. The Better Half is cooking corned beef for tonight’s dinner. I’m wearing a green t-shirt, socks, and shoes today and will be attired in something similar tomorrow. I’m of Irish extraction as they say in my hometown of Boston

Unfortunately, since January 20, we appear to be blessed not by anyone good at driving out snakes, but with St. Upid. Many of US wish him a quick trip back to Apprenticeland, or wherever, until he learns how to behave with civilized people who lack the forbearance of, or for, some saints.

St. Upid, Patron Saint of Economic Collapse

We’ve already had our first 70 degree day and some thunder. Many waterfowl have returned over the past few days. Weeping willows are turning golden. Red osier dogwood has brightened. There’s only a few small patches of snow left, if that. There's snow in the forecast for the day before Spring arrives which, in Minnesota, isn't terribly surprising. In years past, we've had snow every month of the year but one. This year is looking like a tarriffic one for all kinds of volatility and roller coaster rides.

I spend too much time doom scrolling and hope to soon find something more enjoyable to do instead. Fly fishing, anyone? Then again, though I've not yet acquired the skill to turn away from watching an impending train wreck, I do hope we won’t soon be forbidden to wear certain colors, especially since “Spring Is a New Beginning."

"The Wearing of the Green" Lyrics

Oh, Paddy dear, did you hear the news that's going 'round?

The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground

Saint Patrick's Day no more to keep, his color can't be seen

For there's a bloody law again' the Wearing of the Green.

I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand

And he said, "How's poor old Ireland and how does she stand?"

"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green."

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

Then since the color we must wear is England's cruel red

Sure Ireland's sons will never forget the blood that they have shed

You may pull the shamrock from your hat and cast it on the sod

But 'twill take root and flourish there, though underfoot 'tis trod.

When laws can stop the blades of grass for growing as they grow

And when the leaves in summertime their verdure dare not show

Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen*

But 'til that day, please God, I'll stick to Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

But if at last our color should be torn from Ireland's heart

Her sons, with shame and sorrow, from the dear old Isle will part

I've heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the sea

Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of Freedom's day.

Ah, Erin, must we leave you, driven by a tyrant's hand

Must we seek a mother's blessing from a strange and distant land

Where the cruel cross of England shall never more be seen

And where, please God, we'll live and die, still Wearing of the Green.

She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen

For they're hanging men and women there for Wearing of the Green.

*"Caubeen" is an Irish word for a certain type of hat, similar to a beret.

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