Passed out in the casket

Being a good Irish girl, my ancestral time for drinking and frivolity arrives this weekend. It is accompanied by corned beef and cabbage along with Irish soda bread. And yes, I may imbibe in a Bailey’s Irish float or two.

One side of my family is Irish, the other side Scottish, so cabbage in all its possible forms was a staple in our house and I truly do love the sound of Scottish bagpipes. They will bring tears to my eyes every time.

I think one of the funniest stories my grandmother ever told was of traveling back to Ohio for the burial of one of my grandfather’s uncles.

Upon arrival by train, they were met by the family and taken to grandpa’s childhood home where the uncle was laid out in his casket, ready for the traditional Irish wake, complete with prayers, music, food, dancing and alcohol of all sorts.

Things apparently went along just fine until the next morning when grandma came down the stairs to find deceased uncle Roddy uncerimoniously propped up in the corner of the living room and one of the other relatives passed out in the casket.

“Francis, we’re going home.”

And back to Wyoming they came on the first train out of town, skipping the funeral entirely.

So whether you’re truly Irish or not, put on your green, eat some corned beef and cabbage and drink yourself silly on green beer.

Just don’t prop the dead guy in the corner.