Retirement blues, books read, musings, family, secrets, lists, etc.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Shouldn't the Wearin' O' the Green Be Fun and All?
Is there a name for the fear of not wearing green on St. Patrick's Day? Whatever it is, I have it.
I think my mother gave it to me. She worried that I'd end up at school not wearing green and get pinched. I don't know how many friends I had that would really hurt me bad if I didn't happen to remember, but I don't think there were that many. I had nice enough friends. Besides, didn't teachers pin shamrocks on people who forgot to bring them into the fold?
I wonder if her mother made her have this craziness. Maybe it went back generations. The neuroses, I mean.
I even worry now about it. About the morning when I'm not quite fully dressed. Carl wouldn't hurt me if he pinched me and he's never even pinched me in all forty-four years of marriage. This is nuts.
Those Irish. They've ruined something that should have been fun-filled and binding.
Retired teacher, MaEd Counseling, Married, two adult sons, one fabulous daughter-in-law, two granddaughters. Trying like crazy to make something of retirement. I love getting up at 9AM and love hanging out wherever and whenever I choose, but I'm trying to add meaning. Meaning. Isn't that what we're all after?