St. Patrick’s Day has come to an end. Although the streets of Georgetown were packed with revelers and Irish bars had queues a block long, I’m sad to say that you would have been hard pressed to know that today was a holiday in downtown D.C. Yes, there was the odd green tie or scarf, but by and large the city was still dressed in its drab greys and blacks.

I come from Connecticut, which is a Catholic state, and grew up in a town where you were either Italian or you were Irish. (Okay, that’s not entirely true; you could be Polish or Puerto Rican.) And if you weren’t any of those things, you just sort of coasted along, knowing, as my grandmother used to say that, in all likelihood, you’d end up marrying someone who was. All of southern New England boasts a similar population, as does New York (City, at least), as we were the first stops on the boat over from Europe and probably, therefore, the cheapest fare. And people just stayed.

I’ve made much of the Italian American demographic of the state, because we co-opted their food, and because their immigration waves came more recently than the Irish ones. But most Connecticut towns of a population over 15,000 had at least two Catholic churches — an Italian one and an Irish one — and we all made a big deal out of St. Patrick’s Day. Darby O’Gill and the Little People played on tv. And I never heard of pinching someone for not wearing green until I was in college and had met Westerners who thought this was appropriate behavior. I’m not going to speak for everyone in my home state, but I suspect that if you tried that to a stranger, you’d get socked in the jaw.

But it didn’t happen because you wore green. And if you didn’t, everyone just pitied you because you were forgetful and got dressed without remembering it was March 17.

I’m disappointed D.C. You could have done better — and with so little effort. Please at least buy some green socks before next March, and we’ll try again then.

In the meantime, I offer you two songs. The first is from Going My Way, a sweet film featuring Bing Crosby and Barry Fitzgerald as Catholic priests in New York City:

The second is “You’re Not Irish,” by family friend Robbie O’Connell. He’s the nephew of the Clancy Brothers, and he performs his biographical tune with two of his Clancy cousins:

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone!

When Einstein announced his theory of relativity, anyone who’d ever experienced a weekend whiz by must have thought, “Duh!”

Seriously! What happened to it? And is time going to go even faster? Will it slow down again when I get to be very old?

Our Pi Day celebration was very nice. Rudi heroically put the effort to clean (or, at least, to mask our mess) and to run errands, while I baked. I made apple and pecan pies and Michael cooked up two quiches. Sarah contributed cannoli from a bakery at Union Station of which I’d heretofore been unaware. Julia and Elspeth provided sparkling wit as we finished our prep work, and everyone was kind enough not to point out our inadequate tidying job. Beer and pita chips and hummus supplemented the pies, and we had a merry little feast. Since there were six of us, we paired off into teams for a game of Trivial Pursuit. Michael and I beat the other two teams with a run toward the end, although it was not without its hiccups. I foundered on the Don Larsen perfect game question before redeeming myself with a surprising knowledge (even to myself!) of the Super Bowl.

Sunday was the Homespun Yarn Party, and I went in search of local items to ship to a swap pal in Australia. Normally, I’d rely on more foodstuff to fill out the box, but Australia is particularly persnickety about its imports and routinely confiscates stuff from the mail. Since I’d like my partner to get everything safely, I’m sticking more with hard goods. While I was there, I may have picked up a skein of yarn for myself — a green stripey one that will make a lovely pair of socks for next St. Patrick’s Day. Or maybe for Christmas. Oh, and I did win a door prize — a tote bag from Ravelry!

The rain returned tonight and I walked home from work while chatting on the phone with my folks in the growing drizzle. I don’t mind the drips and we need the rainfall, so it was perfectly fine with me. I’m hoping it keeps the ground pliable so I can spend some time in the garden next weekend. I need to do something with all those seeds I bought up in Connecticut!

Rudi made a tasty supper and we watched the CBS comedies (my favorite tv of the week) before throwing on a dvd of early Boston Legals from the library. Ultimately we ended up with a cooking show on PBS before the news and late night comedy shows.

I’m trying to finish up a few knitting projects before Sock Madness begins Thursday morning, so I pushed through the gusset of my spring socks tonight. Tomorrow night should see me finish the foot, which will leave the toe decreases and binding off for Wednesday night knitting group. This pair is knit in a lovely skein of yarn in a colorway called Spring Garden, and the colors remind me of rainbow sherbet. I picked a pattern called Spring Forward, so I’m optimistically believing they’ll be done for Friday’s Vernal Equinox. I’m also nearly finished with the first part of a sweater I’m knitting, which is nice and soft and squooshy and a very pretty shade of marled turquoise.

I guess that’s about it for right now. Good night!

Since Congress has decided to go and make Pi Day official, I’d better figure out what I’m baking for tomorrow.

I have 6+ pie pans and am open to anything I can prep easily. Tomorrow is not the day to try fussy recipes!

I’m thinking at least one savory recipe and maybe a pizza (Mum, I might be calling later for the pizza dough recipe.), in addition to a few sweet pies.

Any suggestions? Or requests? Want to stop by? Leave a note…

And for any other readers from northern climes in need of a reminder that spring is coming:

This shot is from two weeks ago, over by the ice skating rink, just before the snow storm.

This morning on the way to and from the dentist I saw hyacinths starting to show their flowers and the first of the magnolia blooms. The daffs and the croci are in full bloom all over town.

Monday Morning Music will return on Tuesday, which will be Monday for me.

I’ve had a lovely weekend and am enjoying day three, aka The Worst Monday of the Year. (ETA: It’s only the Worst Monday when you have to get up for work an hour earlier than you did before Daylight Savings Time kicked in. Since I did not, my Monday was absolutely lovely.)

Saturday we had sun in the morning and comfortable temperatures. Mum baked a delicious cake for Gramma’s birthday. I bought two handfuls of seed packets from the store, remembering that I had difficulty finding them in the District last year. I’ll give you the run-down of the potential garden plants later in the week.

Yesterday, Karen and I met up in the Quiet Corner of Connecticut for lunch. She is looking lovely at the end of her second trimester, and it was so nice to be able to spend the entire afternoon together. When we both lived in Connecticut we’d get together several times a month, so our get-togethers are something I really miss. We decided to switch our meeting spot this time and I think that Pomfret might be a good future spot to meet, since they have lots of hiking trails and a nice restaurant with outdoor seating. It felt so nice to eat lunch outside in the sun without coats being necessary. Last night my folks surprised me with chocolate-dipped strawberries and some lovely birthday presents. We followed a late dinner with an episode of the original Mickey Mouse Club and some music from the Johnny Cash Show.

This morning I slept late before getting up so I could block Gramma’s quilt (her Christmas present, belatedly finished). It’s upstairs drying on our bed. What a luxury doors to keep cats away from blocking pins are! You never appreciate a bedroom so much as when you don’t have one! Now I’m sitting at the computer, with music playing in the background, lunch preparation noises coming from the kitchen, and snow falling outside. The birds at the feeder disappeared for a while when the precipitation was switching from rain to sleet, but once it turned back to snow, they returned. A red-capped woodpecker stopped by to visit with the smaller birds and a small red squirrel shimmied his way up the metal pole holding the feeders to ensconce himself at the feeder. Boy was he surprised when Mum popped out to shoo him away! The pines out the window behind the computer are starting to show a white icing and the large flakes have nearly covered the ground. I know my family is tired of snow, but I think it’s really sweet of the weather gods to give us such a nice show before we head back to the warm climes down south.

Talk to you tomorrow from D.C.!