It's St. Patrick's Day Eve and I'm ready for the big day. I baked four loaves of Irish Soda Bread this afternoon to take to work tomorrow, managed to unearth a container of shiny shamrock confetti to sprinkle all over the staff table, and I'm already wearing pajamas with a little green on them to prevent any early morning pinching attacks. The pajama thing is a leftover tradition from childhood when my older brother and I would lie in wait for each other to walk down the hall and then pinch the one who wasn't wearing the requisite green in homage to St. Pat. Advanced preparation was the key to survival.
March 17th was always significant to our family. Dad's mother and father were born and married in Ireland so I'm not that far removed from the old country, but the real cause for celebration was that Mom was born on St. Patrick's Day. Her mother gave even gave her the middle name of Patricia in honor of her special birthdate. Margaret Patricia Odlin Davis would have been 93 years old tomorrow. Happy Birthday, Mom.