Saint Pattie's Day

Lore has it, that Saint Patrick chased all of the snakes from Ireland out into the sea, where they drowned. As a child who's grandfather came directly from Ireland, Saint Patrick's Day was a day of celebration. From going to Mass to watching parents party and get drunk and sing Irish songs and dance; ending the day by eating corned beef and cabbage and probably putting myself to bed, I don't really remember that detail. It was always a holiday, a "Saint's Day" while in Catholic School. It is the day I remember a boy , Hank McGloughlin, stealing a quick and innocent, (and knock your socks off exciting) kiss from me on a sunny green hill behind San Bruno Park after Mass.

This is one of those days I grapple with: separating heartfelt tradition from what I know as an adult to be appropriate and acceptable within the values and beliefs I have adopted over the years.

One of the areas that both intrigues me and troubles me, is the symbolism of the "snakes out of Ireland". Truly, it represents a time when the Christians banned the pagans once and for all from Ireland. And with that went the right to celebrate life by the beautiful rhythms of nature. Celebration became patriarchial and rigid, governed by money and politics rather than the natural world. Don't get me wrong. I believe in God and celebrate all the mysteries of the seen and unseen world. But would I prefer the children of today dancing and singing with their families by the light of the sun and the moon? Or do I want them putting themselves to bed to the sound of drunken tenors winding down in the kitchen? Is it a religious issue or a sign of an era gone by?

Dramatic thoughts? Yes. Why? I don't know.

All this leads to a few photos of Ruby M*rning on Saint Patrick's Day. Those snakes needed to go somewhere and we welcomed Hands On Snakes to the school for a visit. The children loved it, and I must say not one of them was squeamish.