But, alas, here is the mighty "Quinn", not an eskimo, but a wonderful old salt we found playing accordian along the trail coming down from Dun Aengus in Inishmore. Quinn had a lot of stories to tell. He was 71 years old. He spent years traveling the world over to play his accordian with traditional Irish bands.
So I hope everyone had a wonderful St. Patrick's "week". I took a full week to celebrate my Irish heritage. I started with Kat's wonderful Colcannon recipe. I ended it with a couple of pints of Guinness at a little pub in Gettysburg. You should all know that we haven't had alcohol (in the Williams' house) at the request of the husband. (He was trying to cut down and needed my moral support). He said he didn't mind if I had a few drinks outside of the house.
Well, this was the week to take advantage of that offer! According to my old, dearly departed, Philadelphia friend, Leo D. Reilly, we Irish have what he called "Ethnic responsibility". (in other words, we're expected to drink, so we shouldn't disappoint). Leo was a juvenile diabetic, who lost his leg and his sight, and had an uncanny ability to navigate his way around the back roads of Roxborough and Manayunk from the backseat of a car. In the end the diabetes didn't kill him, but a brain aneurism did. He died at the tender age of 39. So here's to Leo, Quinn, my Irish family and to the many Irish "characters" I've come to know. To all of my friends of all ethnicities, this was just another excuse to celebrate life. I hope you enjoyed your week in your own way. If nothing else, celebrate the fact that spring has sprung!