How, you may ask, has the snow shoveling been this season? Well, I'll tell ya, for most of January and February there was very little snow. The roads were as bare and dry as a Saharan stripper. March, so far, has been a different matter. It's a snow shoveler's delight (or hell, depending on your point of view).
But spring is on its way.
Ah, spring! — hearts sweetened by flowers;
chill ousted by warmth
and more daylight hours
And the emergence of long buried dog poop.
Dah, dah, dog owner,
Have you any poop?
Yes sir, yes sir
Three bags scooped.
Two for the garbage,
One for a gag;
Place it on the neighbors porch -
Set fire to the bag.
Editor's Note:
Please do not attempt the "gag" described in the above "poem". The last thing I need is for some little tyke to get caught participating in such mischief and plead with their parents;
"But I read it on that most trustworthy of blogs. You know, Snow Shoveling in Canada!"
"Go to your room." replies the strict but reasonable adult.
"For the poop bag trick?" cries the youngster.
"No. For reading Snow Shoveling In Canada."
I wish our trusty beagle with his uncanny sniffing ability would assist us in finding those land mines. But he has no interest in locating his own. Rabbit turds are another matter. He loves those "milk duds" and could find them buried under a four foot snow drift. Eww!
The annual spring clean-up will be a much easier task this year as we were able to stay on top of the problem due to the relative lack of snow. Sometimes however, I'd find my shoe on top of the problem. Eww again!
Generally, this is not one of the things I look forward to in March, but I do happily anticipate Saint Patrick's day, if only for an excuse to have a beer or two. I'll put a couple of drops of green food coloring in my liquid refreshment to really get in a playful leprechaunish mood.
Many, many, many years ago, in my relatively younger days, I might have headed out to a bar to partake in some Saint Patrick's Day revelry. In my case at least, things never got much out of hand. That hasn't always been the case for a number of shamrock-adorned merrymakers, as demonstrated by the
Saint Patrick's Day riot of 2012 in nearby Antler River.
But back to those days long ago. As I was about to say, me and me
muckers was having a pint or two at a local pub on Saint Paddy's Day. Faith and begorrah! 'Twas at a time before karaoke was a thing. Some of the taverns then had an open mic night and people would come up and sing a song or two to the accompaniment of an organ player.
Finian's rainbow! There we were drinking, laughing, telling jokes and stories, and listening to some patrons squawk out a few discordant tunes like a flock of
Snag Breacs. Meanwhile, my brother Greg asked our father - seated at the table with us - "What does "
Erin Go Bragh" mean?" Ol' Da leaned into him and said in a low voice, "It means 'go **** yourself'."
Of course Greg didn't believe him, and just accepted it as Dad having his usual fun and let it go at that. But now it was Dad's turn at the microphone. My father was a
pretty darned good singer, and many there were happy to see him finally getting up for a song or two.
Before he got into his first song, he had a few words for the crowd. "Erin Go Bragh everybody! Erin Go Bragh! Right Greg? Erin Go Bragh!" he boomed into the mic. Needless to say, my brother was doubled over with laughter.
While we're talking St. Patrick's Days of yore, I must tell you a story of mine from my early school days.
Grade two it was, and our teacher had a picture of a shamrock on the board at the front of class. It wasn't labeled, so she was quizzing us as to what this particular leafy object was called.
"Clover!" came the first guess.
"No," replied teacher.
A quick succession of guesses came next, all followed with a "no" reply.
"Four leaf clover."
"Three leaf clover."
"Green clover."
"Clover leaf," and so on.
Now I had my little hand up the whole time, holding it as high as I could, waving it back and forth with furious frenzy. I knew the answer. "Pick me, oh pick me! OH, OH, OH!" my mind shouted.
Eventually, the teacher saw me and let me have my guess. "Finally," I thought, "now I'll give this class a much needed botany lesson."
I stood tall and proud and exclaimed, "Ramshock!"
The teacher just said "no" and went to the next student as if I had just blurted out the standard "clover" answer.
I've lived down the embarrassment since then. I mean, this was grade two after all. But at least I was a helluva lot closer than anyone else. Obviously, the teacher wasn't impressed much. Incidentally, a shamrock really is just a clover. And don't you think Ramshock would be a great name for a heavy metal band?
Attention grade two students:
Left to right - Shamrock, Ramshock
Returning now to current Saint Patrick's Days; another way I celebrate is to make some Irish Stew.
Here's the recipe:
Ingredients:
1 batch of any beef stew (a can of Dinty Moore will do)
2 or 3 beers
1 bottle Irish whiskey
Directions:
Warm up stew
Pour 1/4 cup of beer into stew
Add 1 tablespoon Irish whiskey
Drink remaining beer and whiskey
Pass out
On awakening, put stew in refrigerator
Eat a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal (if you can, that is. They're magically delicious, don't ya know?)
Editor's Note:
Please do not attempt the above recipe. It was just a joke. If you do attempt it, well you'll just have to go to your room - without your supper.
I should mention another noteworthy date that takes place two days before the annual shamrock shindig. That would be the Ides of March. The only thing it's known for is being the anniversary of the assassination of Julius Caesar. Not really a day for celebration, but I suppose you could host a toga party and serve
Bloody Caesars.
I generally think of March as a miserable month (and I’m sure Caesar could have lived without it). But with Saint Patrick's Day and the NCAA College Basketball Tournament, there's enough madness to keep me distracted until the warmer days of April.
Finally, to all the kids out there; if your parents should send you to bed for reading Snow Shoveling In Canada, just say to them with a smile and a wink, "Erin Go Bragh!"
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