I’m the daughter of a 100% Irish lady from Boston and a Polish/Yugoslavian/Croatian man from Chicago/Michigan.
But it’s the Irish side of me that really shines just about this time of year… bringing me back to not only my childhood of my Mom’s big Irish family, but all the way across the Atlantic Ocean from Ireland; somewhere I’ve never been, but feel it in my soul. Ireland, where my great-grandfather and great-grandmother left in the late 19th century to find a better life here in America. They would arrive in Baltimore, but settle in Boston.
My Nana, with her Irish name Mary Allen, was proud to be Irish. She often talked of her mother and father and six brothers and one sister… and I actually remember her Dad, my great-grandfather, with his Irish brogue so thick that my Mom had to interpret what he was saying. He would live to be 96 years old.
Barry and I have a very old, large, beautiful fireplace in our very old home. Its mantle is warm and inviting and is even carved with little drawings and doodles from when this room in our home was once used as a school room.
This mantle is where I lovingly place all of my seasonal decorations.
And each March, or pretty close to it, I love to take out my SHAMROCKS to celebrate my Irish…
Each time I walk into our home, these green Irish eyes are smiling!
(Yes, my eyes are Irish green!)