Irish eyes are smiling.

Happy St. Patty’s Day, all!

Around these parts, March 17 is a day to get drunk in the morning, watch a parade, and try to avoid getting urinated on by inebriated strangers. Luck of the Irish, indeed.

I know that everyone and their dog claims to be Irish. But I really am. My sweet grandpa was very proud of his Irish heritage and I always think of him this time of year.

A few years ago, my brother lived in Galway, and my folks and I visited him. So, I thought I’d share some of our trip. It’s like being subjected to a slide show about your friends’ vacation … but you’re probably drunk right now, so it’s fine, right?

The Cliffs of Moher. We happened to be in western Ireland during the hottest weather on record. From what I understand, the weather isn’t typically so Malibu-esque. And this photo? Hardly does the view justice. Breathtaking!

This is also at the Cliffs of Moher and is my favorite photo of me and Poochie, well, ever. He had just told me about an unfortunate incident in which he had dropped an Eggo waffle on the kitchen floor. He yelled, “FUCK!,” not stopping to think that our dad was on the phone with … our dear, sweet grandma. I could not stop laughing.

The very, very best street sign in the universe. This made us all laugh and laugh and laugh. When folks say driving in foreign countries is dangerous? They ain’t lyin’.

This is Poochie competing in the Irish National Rowing Championships. I am in awe of my brother. Yes, Ireland really is that green. No, I don’t know how I am related to a jock, either.

The view off of Valencia Island, off the Ring of Kerry. And yes, the sky really was that blue. Everything in Ireland seemed to be in Technicolor. The colors used in Lucky Charms? Really not representative of their Irish heritage.

We walked around this old monastery on a damp, serene Sunday morning. We didn’t talk much while exploring – the place felt sacred. And all of our photos from the monastery have these lovely glowing orbs in them. I am a believer.