By delaying our St. Patrick’s Day celebration one day we were able to assemble a perfect party. Our tradition is to have three or four new guests at our table, in addition to Robbo’s two bachelor brothers and Grandpa.  This year, Ben’s first in college, Ben got a ride with a freshman at VTC who has a car, and two other ladies were able to join us.

St. Patty’s Day is more elaborate than Christmas for us.  Corned beef and cabbage! Irish soda bread! Leprechaun ale! (Ah, I can’t tell you about that one. It’s magic for at least one new  visitor each year.)  As we approach satiation we take turns reading about Patrick, and Robbo explains how the Irish saved civilization. Then we pass the tall green blarney hat so each can tell a story in turn, earning a gold coin from the leprechaun’s treasure.  Dessert costs a coin. This dessert topped all others I have ever served: chocolate slab and amaretto custard.

The high point?  Sylvia’s sweet, clear voice as she sang a ballad. Nobody expected that from this shy girl.

I managed to get by without telling a story. I cleaned the dishes and prepared the dessert.  Can’t spin a story when I am in task mode. Couldn’t think of a thing to tell.

While the teens and near teens played a violent and strategic game outside in the dark Robbo and I visited with Katharine, our English friend. She is 24 years old, and has really hits it off with Molly.  A precious young woman whose faith is warm and honest.

Good food, good company, and a clean house.  What a satisfying evening.