If it is, indeed, the first day of March, it means that the High Holy Days are almost upon us!
No, silly, I don't mean Palm Sunday, Passover, or Easter. . . I mean the High Holy Days!!!! (known to some of you simply as St. Patrick's Day and the days leading up to it!!!!)
I'm so excited I could throw up!
No, seriously, when I was younger. . . (well, before the development of the little purple pill, when I had nothing but Pepto Bismol to battle my stomach ailments) I used to throw up on every holiday. . . like clockwork!
And the bigger the holiday, the worse it would be. . . Christmas, of course, being the biggest . . . and the Fourth of July was up there too, because of all of the s'mores and stuff. . . but St. Patrick's Day was always the winner because of the green food coloring my mother would put in our applesauce in honor of the big event. . .
And then when I graduated to green beer. . .
(Well, you don't need to know all the sordid little details, now do you????? Just trust me when I tell you that I always used to throw up on holidays.)
And so, weaving together my obsession with all things Irish. . . my love of poetry. . . my tendency to drink a glass or two of wine. . . . and my sorry Lenten promise not to complain about my daughters (yes, I'm already sorry I made the promise) . . . I offer you this poem for today. . .
A Drinking Song
WINE comes in at the mouth
and love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
- William Butler Yeats
Those words are pure poetry! (Well, that's because they are, but still . . . )