Happy St Patrick's Day!

Growing up in the Bryan family meant several things. It meant you had the ward's funniest guy as a dad (yep I still remember him MC'ing the talent show as Grover) and the ward's most together lady as a mom (only one I know who can throw together a luncheon complete with entertainment in under 15 minutes). It meant lazy summer days with Grammie making tuna sandwiches (with onions and celery...no one made better tuna sandwiches) and getting all the gum we wanted out of the Gum Drawer (who has a gum drawer?). It meant the lazy summer days ended when Grandpa got home and we went out to pick raspberries (we ate more than we picked...until we realized that we'd be eating them for breakfast, lunch and dinner by the end of the summer). It meant raking leaves at Grandma's house and trying to do that Charlie Brown thing in the piles (until we were so covered in those invisible splinters that we gave up) and then we went in to watch Three's Company and eat peanuts till the wee hours with Grandma. It meant not telling Grandpa we got hurt because he was so protective he'd go throw away whatever it was that hurt us and grouch about it the whole time.

But it also meant that on St Patrick's Day we would sit around and wonder if we really were Irish. Ultimately, it turns out we DO have Irish ancestry but with a surname like Bryan we had claimed it the whole time anyway!

My Grandma would invite us down for Corned Beef and Cabbage she had cooked in the pressure cooker...low and slow till it was tender and soft. Then we'd all remember how grateful we were for our Irish ancestors and to only have to eat cooked cabbage once a year.

My sister Sarah still insists on making Corned Beef and Cabbage. She also insists that people who come to her house on St Patrick's Day eat it too. I suggest doing your visiting teaching TOMORROW people!

I've forsaken the time honored tradition of squishy skunky overcooked cabbage and rubbery stringy pressure cooked corned beef for the new time honored tradition of just dying everything I can get my hands on green. I should mention here that Savannah throws up if she eats too much food coloring. So as we are eating the green oatmeal, ramen noodles and rice today, possibly retching into the toilet as our bodies reject the over-saturation, I'm still grateful for our Irish ancestors, for St Patrick who brought Christianity to Ireland, but most importantly, for growing up as a Bryan.