Happy St. George’s Day to anyone who cares about it! I have to admit that I didn’t because I didn’t even know it existed. But I learned, friend, I learned.

So apparently, this guy is the patron saint of England. Also, he’s big on slaying dragons. The story goes the he came to Libya and there learned that a ferocious dragon was terrorizing the country and the only way to pacify the beast was to fulfill his unending appetite for beautiful maidens. Which apparently are much more delicious than ugly maidens or hot married chicks. Regardless, the dragon had been at this particular buffet for quite a while and the people were running out of sacrificial victims like you wouldn’t believe. The only other person that qualified for becoming dragon bait was the king’s daughter. As she was being walked to her doom, St. George came in out of nowhere and sent her home, promising that he would do battle with the dragon and slay it. Luckily, when St. George got to the dragon arena, there was a magical orange tree that protected anyone under it  from venomous poison, otherwise, St. Patrick might have had to have done some double duty. Anyway, St. George fought gallantly and was triumphant, and was rewarded with all the hot ladies that were left. In the end, he probably wished he’d gotten there sooner. (more…)

Pardon me for being so verbose today, but I’m waiting around, and what am I’m to do while waiting but to blither on and on to a faceless void known as the Intermanet?

So today is St. Patrick’s Day.  All day long on the radio and TV have been historical documentaries of the Irish plight past and present and interviews with Irish or Irish-American women and men who’ve overcome adversity, made a success of themselves, or just have an opinion they’d like to share in the thier giddy sing-song brogue. And, of course, there is the territory of the Sitcom Special.

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When I was a nanny in Sacramento, I used to watch Veggie Tales almost constantly, and this clip just came into my head today in honor of the holiday. Funnily enough, I seem to remember that St. Patrick as the guy who drove all the snakes out of Ireland. Go figure.

This morning feels like early spring. Windows opened, curtains fluttering slightly, and in the breeze there’s a smell like a fresh shower and the afterbirth of rain. I’ve been too long held down. And now even the weather seems to make my heart light.

I’ve been demanding, I can see that now. I’ve demanded that my demands were met and I decided for myself what I should have. I told God that if he wanted something different, I would submit. But I didn’t. I stored it all up, my disappointment, balled it up into a knot of self-pity. Because look at all I’ve had to put up with and now this too? Don’t I deserve what I want? Haven’t I suffered enough?

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So today is Thanksgiving. Hoorah! Fall is past full bloom and winter is on its way in, with all it’s traffic problems and snow delays, with all its cancelled school. Winter is a great season. I mean, sure a lot of people get S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder-isn’t that cute?) because there’s less sunlight, and it’s colder than blazes, although it’s usually not cold enough to snow so instead there’s a lot of yucky grey rain/slush, and also it’s more expensive with Christmas (and in my case, several birthdays) and gigantic heating bills, and . . . Well, winter’s alright anyway. It could be worse. Probably.

So the reason I’m going on about winter is 1) winter makes me want to fall in love, and 2) although that’s true, it isn’t the reason. The real reason is that I’m procrastinating, and the reason I’m doing that is because I don’t want to go to Thanksgiving dinner.

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