What's that? It's not St. Patrick's Day yet? Well, too bad... because our St. Paddy's day party has been moved up this year. We can't have it any later because we'll be shell hunting in Myrtle Beach with Grandma and Grandpa. So, instead of posting this I should be scrubbing that spot behind my kitchen sink. I'm pretty sure all of our guests tonight will be lining up to inspect that spot. I hope they eat LOTS of corned beef instead.
So, in the Shamrock Spirit, here's my one and only four leaf clover story. I'm a superstitious sort...even though we do have a black cat. I've spent the last thirty years half-heartedly looking for a four leaf clover. I've only found one in all that time. Want to know when it was? Oh- of course you do. It was the morning I went into labor with Greeley. I was strolling around the garden at the Mountain House when it was just there in a patch of clover. Could it be anything other than a good omen? I don't think so.
So, Happy St. Paddy's Day... I'm off to clean a bathroom or two.