When I was 8 years old I saw my first live bagpipe performance. Since it's not your traditional band/orchestra instrument I took up the piano and violin instead. But every year at this time I hear those bagpipes going again and wonder if I have missed my true calling in life. There is something about the wailing drone that stirs my bones.
I claim no Irish descent but I sure can appreciate the day. I'm wearing my green, listening to Riverdance and although it's still morning, decided to pull my own drink off tap:
The husband left for a much needed golfing day so I was up at the crack of dawn making him a fortified breakfast for a long day on the course. Cocoa is my drink of choice 365 days of the year! Had I been ten years younger I probably would have dyed it green but let's not go crazy. After all, I'm not really Irish.
Tomorrow I'll show you the mother load I brought home from Joanns and upcoming projects. Complete with the story of what happens when you put a fabricaholic pregnant woman between two claustrophobic aisles stuffed with 60% off flannel fabrics.
Happy St. Pattys!