OK, I'm Irish. Hate me, or Love me, I don't care.
One of the things I love is a touch of the Irish. Powers, Jameson, whatever!
Today it's the Killbeggen.
The peat, the smoke, the wood.
I have too few memories of the peat fire, the cold rain, and the relief from the cares of this world, but lads and ladies I'm work'in on it!
I have a month of night shift to work, and guess which coleen is rockin' me to sleep.
Saturday, March 3, 2007
A touch of the Irish
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2 comments:
Well Shoot a mile and walk back! If you weren't so far away, you could come to Irish Fest with the Dearly Beloved and me today.
Mark your calendar for the 1st weekend in March, next year, and come to Dallas. We'll meet you at the gate { I'll be the one in the Green flowered hat and the purple jacket}and spend the day listenin' to good music, eatin' good food, watchin' those cutey girls dance, and drinkin some Guiness, or Harp. They don't sell they hard stuff. But we have it at our house. To which you and the Love of your Life are cordially invited afterwards.
But bring a jacket. The weather Gawds rarely smile on Irish Fest. Today's high will be 57.
I hereby invite myself, too, because I have a teeny bit of Irish that is trying to get along with The Belgian, German, and Cherokee.
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