St. Patrick’s Day. I can’t say I ever drank green beer…even when we lived in Chicago although I certainly remember it being served. I do have a fondness for the river being dyed green and I remember once watching the parade when it was during the week and went down Dearborn in front of the Monadnock Building where I worked. That’s about the extent of it though.
My only other St. Patrick’s Day remembrance is from when I was a kid and I believe my parents got into a fight because my mother tried to serve orange jello on St. Patrick’s Day. She didn’t grow up half Irish Catholic as my father did.
A few more buildings from our wander earlier this week.
Onward.
My father was of Irish heritage, and my mother not (Scandinavian, not that it matters.) She would buy green bread from the local bakery, and sometimes dye the mashed potatoes green, etc. My father was a patient man and only asked her to stop. She once made my older brother green oatmeal and he balked at eating it, and my older sister stood up for him, saying “it’s OK, Jimmy. You don’t have to eat it!”
Ha! That’s wonderful!
I love your photos and your St. Patrick’s Day rememberances! Thinking of you!
Your photo gallery has grown, CV. Many beautiful and poignant images. The dead-vines tavern! The wintryness of towns back there.