Happy St. Patrick's Day!

This is before the hike. We did not look like this afterwards. Or at least I didn't.

The first stop on the way to our hike. I'm not really sure what mom is doing with Caroline's head.

 Lucy and Maggie collecting materials to make a fairy house.

I am lovingly stroking a tree evidently.

Rusty looking fine.

I have no explanation for my appearance. Apparently I did not get the "lets look cute" memo.

Alcohol. Scandalous.

My father looking ridiculous while making pancakes.

While it looks like I am attempting to strangle my mother, I am actually giving her a hug.

The coolest kids in the house. We take fashion to another level.

In the end it all comes down to food.

This was the first year that my wardrobe contained enough green to not be pinched on St. Paddy’s day. Usually, though, I can avoid pinching by making the Irish Soda Bread. It’s my contribution to our St. Paddy’s day tradition.

My mom’s side of the family is Irish. That means that half of me is allowed to say “Kiss me, I’m Irish,” and the other half has to wait for Oktoberfest to get any action. A couple of years ago when I was in sixth or seventh grade, my mom got a call from our cousin’s who were having a St. Paddy’s day party in Atlanta. Everyone was congregating at my cousin’s Nicole’s house, and evidently my mom was jealous because after that phone call she gave us ten minutes to pack, then we got in the car for the six hour drive and arrived just in time for the corned beef. Ever since then we have been rotating houses every year on St. Paddy’s day. (Three years ago everyone came to my house, allowing my friends to witness the magic. Apparently my cousin, Frank, who lives here in Lexington had a similar thought because he brought two of his friends. One of them was unfortunate enough to be seen as weak in the eyes of my somewhat merciless friends, and they chased him around the block until he cried. I, however, did not participate because I can not go on a high speed chase after eating so much corned beef.)

This year it was just us and Caroline and Noelle and their families. We decided to meet in the middle this time, because six hours or driving for a short weekend trip is somewhat draining I am told. Apparently, our middle is Robinsville, NC which one can only get to by taking a road called “Tail of the Dragon”. A road frequented by motorcyclists, it’s 318 turns in 11 miles in enough to make anyone swear off the barbeque chips and DQ blizzard they had had an hour before for good. The trip got better after that sickening ride, although the nausea did seem to stay with me for longer than I expected. We chilled in our motorcycle adorned cabin, hiked in the Smoky mountains, made beautiful breakfasts and a delicious Irish dinner in our cramped kitchen, played Cards Against Humanity near the fire pit, and ping pong and pool in a garage full of Chuck Norris posters.

Best food: Irish Soda Bread

Best laugh: During Cards Against Humanity--my sister is the judge--she pulls “How did I lose my virginity?” she chooses “the entire Mormon tabernacle choir.” I think that indicates something.

Best memory: When cousin Maggie went inside and made us all “You are cool” post it notes and I wore it on my head while I played pool.

Worst food/laugh/memory: When I accidentally poured buttermilk into my earl grey and drank my tea, thinking there was something terribly wrong with it, and understanding what it was when I saw the chunks at the bottom.