St. Patrick’s Day began with the removal of a champagne bottle from the bookshelf beside my bed.
I wasn’t overcome with a spontaneous cleaning moment, more a safety precaution from the 4.7 earthquake that woke me up at 6:29 AM on my Monday morning.
My alarm is set to 6:30, but still every minute counts on the weekdays!
The champs bottle is not from this never ending three-day holiday, but a college memento I occasionally glaze at before I go to bed and remember my glory days at the U of A.
Normally, I wouldn’t care about St. Patrick’s day because I really dislike the color green and dark beer, but this year my heart was somewhere else.
This has become my weekly tradition for the past three months. It has been a great after work spot for chardonnay and a mini dinner of brussels sprouts and french fries.
We are on a first name basis with the bartender even though he refers to me by my alter-ego/legal name Elisabeth.
WTFE it makes me sound more irish.
We were elated when we saw the parking lot turned into a mini beer festival.
I won’t discuss my total beverage count for the evening, but every irish cocktail or beer out there, I had.
I don’t want to see the color green and any type of whiskey for a very long time.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day