In anticipation of the Feast of St. Patrick

I saw this on Facebook this morning; I am unable to identify the original artist. If anyone knows, please advise so that I can give proper attribution.

I'm here this morning in the Teeny Tiny Law Office trying hard not to think about the beautiful weather outside. There have been a couple of St. Patrick's Days in my recollection that have been as nice -- but never as many gorgeous days strung together this early in the season.

Although... when I was very young I seem to recall that, one year, the Monsignor at my South Side parish church bid the leaves to come out on the trees in time for Paddy's Day -- and they did. Now I've walked home from the train the last couple of nights and seen the spring flowers leaping out of the dirt, but the leaves aren't yet on the trees. Are my childhood memories mistaken? (It wouldn't be the first time.)

Anyway, I'm listening to the old songs on the iPod, weeping unashamedly (well, there's no one else here today) at the sadder songs, singing along with (or at least drumming a bit on the keyboard at) the lively tunes. For me, it's a wonderful thing to trot out the Clancy Brothers, the Chieftains, the Dubliners, the Irish Rovers, and (of course) Bing Crosby for a week or so before what we call (in our house, at least) the High Holy Days.

But no bagpipes.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like bagpipes. The Shannon Rovers are perhaps the most famous Irish pipe bands hereabouts; various members of the Curmudgeon family are acquainted with several members of the group. But, as I've told one member of that group, the only thing better than 30 minutes of bagpipe music is 15 minutes of bagpipe music.

Like Brylcreem... a little dab'll do ya.