Last night we were at a cousins evening wedding party. My first wedding in Ireland. (My second will be my own). It was pretty and green and I got to meet the other side of the family. Lots of them.
We were in bed after two, which was alright for most as it's St. Paddy's day today, but Lee had to work, and so did I, up until the last minute anyway. My boss called me at half nine to tell me to take the day off and see what was happening around Belfast.
The butterfly got caught in the tree while going by.
So I dressed, dosed up on Nurofens and ventured out for just a little while to see the parade coming in by Custom House Square. It was packed and I was cranky and crampy, sore and sorry for myself. An older woman chatted with me while I sat on a bench watching the festivities, and though I smiled and made strained small talk with her, I really just wanted to be left alone. I walked home pretty soon after that to spend the rest of the day with a hot water bottle and hot buttered toast and tea.
So now, no pints of Guinness in packed and lively bars, but an early night and some more feeling sorry for myself.
Happy St Paddy's Day