Happy St. Patrick’s Day

We survived the party and I’m happy to report that my wee hooligan slept the whole night through without a single bleep on the monitor. I was beyond amazed because the house was packed and you practically had to yell to be heard over all the hubbub . I guess the luck of the Irish was with us that day.

No time for a large post but I thought I’d share a few pictures of Drew and I in our finery. While his mood and temper is as changeable as the weather, he does like to ham it up for the camera on occasion. I see so much of myself in both his looks and temperament that it frightens the bejesus out of me.

When Irish Eyes are Crying

I’m fairly certain that my ancestors from the good ‘oul Emerald Isle are probably rolling over in their graves and crossing themselves. I have done what every Irish emigrant or indeed every Irish-born citizen bemoans on a yearly basis. Let me paint you a lovely picture…

Imagine a Leprechaun were to enter your home and vomit on your walls. Got it? Perfect! That is pretty much how my house looks right now - green everywhere, shamrocks covering every surface, tacky foil garlands, giant leprechauns and a flag. If we lived in a trailer park, I’m sure we would be the toast of the neighbourhood.

In preparation for St. Patrick’s Day, hubby and I will be throwing our annual party; we certainly outdid ourselves with the décor this year. Normally our house is quite elegant and uncluttered but we suspend all sense of reason, or class for that matter, when holidays roll around. It has become somewhat of a joke with our friends - if the “O’Tomkas” are throwing a party, you are sure to be stepping into a theme house – all very tongue in cheek of course.

This is going to be hectic week for the lady of the house! On top of taking care of my increasingly curious wee hooligan, I still have to prepare two more batches of Guinness beef stew, traditional soda bread, cupcakes, cookies, mint bars and whatever else comes to mind. It’s going to be quite the spread and I’m thanking the good Lord that we inherited a deep freeze to store everything.

Sadly, I don’t think we’ll make it out to the St. Paddy’s Parade on Saturday. It feels strange not to be participating in any of the cultural events this year as I completed my term with the Irish Society and did not want to enter elections for another two-year term. I need to focus on my family right now but I hope to get back into volunteer work in the future again. Sorry folks – no rambling redhead on your television sets and radio waves this year. It was a very busy gig but a fulfilling one that enabled me to help raise the society’s profile and garner some wonderful media relations experience. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss giving interviews at a moment’s notice. I think my brain was a lot sharper then than it is now.

Wish me luck folks. Only five days until party time and still loads to accomplish. Here’s hoping I don’t have one beer and crash at my own party. It feels a little bittersweet because this will be the last big event we host in our first home (sniff, sniff). Whatever will I do in the new place with more space to decorate? Be afraid, be very afraid!

Now what ???

First off, I’m a horrible excuse of a blogger. I beg your forgiveness for my extreme tardiness in posting but I had come down with a bad case of Olympic fever; life was temporarily on hold for the duration of the games. You probably think I’m exaggerating but the sad truth is I’m an absolute Olympic junkie and the condition was worsened by the fact that the games were taking place of home soil. Andrew was fed in front of the TV (gasp!), dinners were spent sitting on the living room floor cheering or cursing with our mouths half full, sleep was minimal, exercise almost nonexistent, and beer plentiful.

Now that Vancouver 2010 is over, I find myself wondering how I’ll survive the coming weeks with no sports to watch. It was hard not to get swept up in the reverie after Canada’s stellar performance and final standings. Who will ever forget François Bilodeau’s first Gold on Canadian soil, Joannie Rochette’s unbelievable strength and poise through family tragedy, Crosby’s winning score or Jon Montgomery’s victory beer walk? As for the closing ceremonies, while a bit hokey, I adored the massive beavers and floating moose – a veritable buffet of Canadiana kitsch.

Do you know what I loved the most about these Olympics? For two whole weeks, Canadians held their heads a little higher, cheered a little louder and showed that we are not simply some “eh-saying” backwoods nation.

Now what ???

First off, I’m a horrible excuse of a blogger. I beg your forgiveness for my extreme tardiness in posting but I had come down with a bad case of Olympic fever; life was temporarily on hold for the duration of the games. You probably think I’m exaggerating but the sad truth is I’m an absolute Olympic junkie and the condition was worsened by the fact that the games were taking place of home soil. Andrew was fed in front of the TV (gasp!), dinners were spent sitting on the living room floor cheering or cursing with our mouths half full, sleep was minimal, exercise almost nonexistent, and beer plentiful.

Now that Vancouver 2010 is over, I find myself wondering how I’ll survive the coming weeks with no sports to watch. It was hard not to get swept up in the reverie after Canada’s stellar performance and final standings. Who will ever forget François Bilodeau’s first Gold on Canadian soil, Joannie Rochette’s unbelievable strength and poise through family tragedy, Crosby’s winning score or Jon Montgomery’s victory beer walk? As for the closing ceremonies, while a bit hokey, I adored the massive beavers and floating moose – a veritable buffet of Canadiana kitsch.

Do you know what I loved the most about these Olympics? For two whole weeks, Canadians held their heads a little higher, cheered a little louder and showed that we are not simply some “eh-saying” backwoods nation.