Top O’ the Mornin’ to Ye

Even though I couldn’t find my Kiss Me I’m Irish t-shirt, and grabbing a bluish sweater (thanks to dressing in the Daylight Savings Time dark) instead of green, and getting a last minute reprieve from lunch hour phone duty at work, I was still able to see the St. Paddy’s Day parade.  My green and pink striped socks count as the appropriate apparel to honor my Healy ancestors, though, don’t they?

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St. Patrick Himself greeted all.

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Rosie’s fur felt like goat hair!

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I yelled, “Thank you!” to the firefighters as they passed by instead of “Whoo, whoo, cuties!”   I can’t whistle so that wasn’t an option.

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The alma mater of someone I once knew.

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Perhaps next year I’ll dig out my t-shirt, pour green food coloring over my hair, and participate in the parade.

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