Saint Patrick's Day is here and with the celebrations of green beer, leprechauns, corned beef and cabbage and maybe even talk of the blarney stone, I also celebrate my birthday.
Today in first grade we failed to trap a single leprechaun but we did write limericks about them:
There once was a sneaky leprechaun named Lucky,
who danced on the bookshelf and sang haha hee hee!
That tiny tricky leprechaun named Lucky.
My birthday extravaganza started on Sunday when all the family assembled at The Block in Santa Ana (for non Californians, we'll just say, slightly south of Disneyland) for lunch, coffee and dinner. When the children asked what Mama wanted, I said, TIME. And that's what they gave me (along with a few little gifties). I loved it so much I didn't take a single minute away from the day to photograph it.
Then on Monday, which for some reason unknown to me was a school holiday (not that I minded), Ellen and I drove down Highway 1 along the Pacific Coastline to Santa Monica. On the way we spotted dolphins splashing, playing, feeding, swimming near the shoreline.
The purpose of our visit was to check out this place:
Tudor House is located on 2nd Street near Santa Monica Blvd in Santa Monica. We are happy to recommend this truly authentic tea room.
We chose to sample the traditional tea with salad, sandwiches, scones and petit fours. Our tea choice was Earl Grey.
After tea we walked the one block to Ocean Blvd, crossed the street and strolled along the park on the bluff that overlooks Santa Monica beach~
Santa Monica Pier was just a few blocks south, stretching its wooden planks out in to the Pacific Ocean.
This evening, after tutoring and a quick drop-by my lys, The Professor served me barbequed salmon, asparagus, mashed potatoes and green salad. I think we'll end the night on a green and chocolate note. I noticed some mint chip ice cream in the freezer.
This day is not just leprechauns, beer, Willow's birthday. It is also a day to remember Saint Patrick, the man who brought Christianity to Ireland. I've always loved sharing my day with Saint Patrick. He wasn't actually Irish himself; he was from Cumbria and lived for years as a slave in Ireland. After escaping and returning to his home, he was compelled to return to Ireland as a missionary to teach his former captors about the love of Christ.
The God of life with guarding hold you,
The loving Christ with guarding fold you,
The Holy Spirit, guarding, mould you,
Each night of life to aid, enfold you,
Each day and night of life uphold you.
May God shield me,
May God fill me,
May God keep me,
May God watch me,
May God bring me this night,
To the nearness of his love.