Wearing of the Green

Tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day, and dinner is at my house.

I've hosted St. Patrick's Day dinner at my house for almost eight years now. It's my one chance to share corned beef and cabbage with my mother in law and Uncle Duff. My father in law and my husband don't care for corned beef and/or cabbage, so they get to eat pork chops while we get the good stuff. Lucky us.

Which, by the way, I found out two weeks ago that I actually am some bit Irish, I think maybe an eighth, it's a quarter if I'm lucky. Go me.

However, I was sick last weekend, and am now so far behind that I wish for my very own leprechaun to come by my house and help me make it presentable for tomorrow.

So I blog. Yep. That's how I roll.

I'm thinking that a leprechaun showing up is not going to happen.

I'm just going to have to cook such a kick ass meal that nobody will notice the dust bunnies hanging out in the corner, and they'll ignore the stack of mail waiting to be opened/filed/shredded/whatevered.

And, as an added bonus, the cake I decided to make for The Husband to take to the clients tomorrow, needs to be made in the morning, no baking ahead for me, because it has to be hot, to melt some drizzley sort of topping on it. That means up at 5:30 to bake a cake that our family won't even get to eat. How's that for the Luck of the Irish.

Wherever you are, whatever you do, enjoy!