Personally, March 17th has never been my orange marmalade. As far back as I can recall, it was evident to me that green beer was not a beverage found in nature. Nor were the sweet marshmallow surprises buried in Lucky Charms cereal. Secretly, I coveted that breakfast sugar bomb, (not the cereal, just the marshmallows) but its magical deliciousness rarely found its way into my mother’s shopping cart.
Having survived Pi(e) Day and the Ides of March, I was feeling more “ish” than Irish on Thursday. Donning a generic headscarf, white t-shirt and jeans, I arrived at work to find every employee sporting not only green shirts but kelly-green bandanas. Ugh. The music blaring from the Sonos playlist was most definitely in keeping with the holiday spirit. Except for poor Rosemary Clooney. Sadly, “How Are Things in Glocca Morra?” did not make the cut. I'm disheartened but not surprised to learn that nary a single barista has ever heard of Finian’s Rainbow nor Brigadoon. I didn’t dare ask if they were familiar with the fellow wearing the jaunty cap in the Irish Spring commercials.
Petite shamrocks and Irish flag tri-color non-pareils were out in full force. The cupcakes were whimsically Seussian; dressed in swirls of green, white and orange buttercream, others spiked with Bailey’s Irish Cream and espresso. My contribution consisted of Key Lime pies (more soft yellow than lime green) and Guinness Stout cakes. If there’s one thing I know about the holiday that follows the Ides of March, it is how to combine Guinness with dark chocolate. My talent with well buttered and cocoa-dusted bundt pans is evident by my t-shirts, formerly known as white. I am also well acquainted with how to responsibly collect and dispose of the thimbleful of Guinness lingering in the bottom of each can.
As the next round of holiday prep begins, the Sonos playlist will undoubtedly offer a few versions of the Bunny Hop for our listening pleasure. I will focus on the tasks at hand, the Peeps that demand sugaring and the Hamantaschen that require intricate folding. And all the while I’ll dream of booking a one-way flight to Glocca Morra.