Green River

I don’t live in Chicago now (but only a train ride away) and maybe will go back to stay as my strength comes back and while my amazing family here matters most. (Loads and loads of good Chicago memories.) Making the river green on St. Patrick’s Day can not help but grin. It’s even on the YouTube. Everyone happy. Let go of the bad stuff for a day.

My Mother and Brother do genealogy, though I don’t, but I’m my usual insomnia self so late at night Googled my Grandmother’s family name Malone. Irish clan. Prominent lawyers and jurists. Lands in counties Westmeath, Galway, Mayo.

I actually have a family crest, Irish, Malone, that I’m entitled to inherit. And are my three great brothers. White and silver for peace and sincerity. Yellow or gold for generosity. Green for loyalty. Lion for courage. Star points for virtue, learning, and piety.

There’s a Malone family tartan. Who knew. My taste, neutral, right pattern.

In undergrad on St. Patrick’s Day we would go to some bar and drink green beer out of Mason jars. Cringe.

Miss the corned beef but I’m off meat now. So. Anyway it’s super expensive. So.

In Austin the Whole Foods sold purple shamrocks. Had to have them. Got the photos. Much better.

My honeymoon was driving around Ireland in June. Long days. Green roads, moody skies, coasts east and west. Surprise sheep around the curve. Still have the sweater, hand stitched by a villager in her farm at the bottom of a hill. My then husband also found a very flattering one from the same craftswoman.

There’s a film, considered classic, about an island on the west coast of Ireland, titled Man of Aran, which my then husband insisted I see. I’m pretty sure I didn’t quite get the point at the time. I should take a second look.

Years ago did read How The Irish Saved Civilization. Monks there transcribed classical historical and religious texts and preserved those documents after the fall of Rome. That is significance.