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Monthly Archives: March 2014

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! {Spin Cycle}

14 Friday Mar 2014

Posted by Ginny Marie in writing

≈ 25 Comments

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Spin Cycle

When I was young, I was pinched a lot on St. Patrick’s Day. Since my family was not Irish, I always forgot to wear green until I got to school. It’s one of the reasons I bought green shamrock stickers when I was a teacher to give to all my students who weren’t wearing green!

On St. Patrick’s Day, we say that everyone is Irish, whether you really are or not. The people that I know who are Irish are fiercely so; they are proud of their Irish ancestry. In this melting pot that is America, perhaps the rest of us just want to fit in with the Irish on this one day of the year, although I have to say I think Ed is only in it for the corned beef.

I had never cooked corned beef until I married Ed. I actually think that was the first time I had ever eaten corned beef. And oh! It tastes so good!

I’ve also made boiled cabbage, which I didn’t care for. I prefer cabbage cooked a different way, in the way my ancestors made it.

When I was growing up, the only German meal my mom made for us was sausage, sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes. I still love it, and I make it for my family when I get a craving for it. We don’t really have a special day when we eat sausage and sauerkraut, but we do share something with the Irish: beer.

While Guinness is a little too dark for me, Ed and I used to drink either Bass (Irish beer) or Hacker-Pschorr Weisse (German beer) every Saturday night after church. So I guess when we were in church looking forward to our beer, we were doing the opposite of what Martin Luther said: “I’d rather my people were in the alehouse thinking of church, than in church thinking of the alehouse.” It’s said that Luther loved his wife’s home-brewed beer.

My grandfather, a proud German, drank half a beer with his lunch, and the other half with his dinner. He said that beer was good medicine, and he lived to be 96 years old.

While I’m usually staunchly German like my grandfather, I’ve always loved this Irish proverb.

irish-blessing

Perhaps I love it because the ending, “And until we meet again may God hold you in the palm of His hand,” reminds me of my uncles. They say instead of goodbye, say until we meet again either here on Earth or in heaven above.

Second Blooming

What’s your ancestry? Are you Irish on St. Patrick’s Day? Tell me in the comments below!

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Rear Ended in a Rental Car in California

12 Wednesday Mar 2014

Posted by Ginny Marie in writing

≈ 22 Comments

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California, Spring Break

I was visiting my sister during my Spring Break in March. At the time, she lived in Los Angeles and was going to school at USC. Since my sister didn’t have a car, I rented one at the airport, and we drove all over LA in a new forest green Dodge Neon. The La Brea Tar Pits; NBC Studios; Disneyland; we were going some place new every day.

We were on our way to Universal Studios when it happened. USC is close to some neighborhoods that are a little dicey. We were sitting at a stop light and all of sudden felt a jolt. Someone had rear-ended us!

I was so mad. Couldn’t he see the red light? Didn’t he see that we were completely stopped? What was wrong with that idiot? I was swearing like a truck driver.

However, I was also scared. What if we were getting carjacked? I didn’t want to get out of the car, either.

I didn’t have much time to think about it, fortunately. Just a couple of minutes after we were hit, a motorcycle cop pulled up next to us. He told me he had seen the whole thing, and then he went to talk to the driver of the car that hit us. Not long afterward, a tow truck came to take the other car away. The driver had a suspended license and was driving illegally. Our rental car was dinged up a little, but not badly.

The police officer handed me a police report, and then we were on our way, for another sunny LA day.

California 001 (2)

Waiting to get into the Tonight Show with Jay Leno

 

The next time I visited my sister, I rented a white Chevy Malibu. We drove up the coast to San Francisco. Somewhere in wine country, we were stopped in a long line of traffic. Suddenly we felt a jolt…someone had rear ended us AGAIN!

This time, however, there was no need to call the cops. An older man stepped out of the car, apologized profusely, and there was no damage done. But I couldn’t believe I had been rear ended again!

This summer, Ed and I are planning a family trip to California, and we’re renting a car…

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