I’ve been lied to all my life. My father was under the impression that his Dad – Grandpa Holmes to me – was Irish. Grandpa Holmes passed away either right before I was conceived or when I was 1 years old…so we don’t have a reliable source hanging around. BUT my dad’s sister informed us just last year that he wasn’t Irish. SHOCKING I know. I’ve been telling a lie EVERY St. Paddy’s day. Turns out he was Scottish.
I can still celebrate though, no?
Yesterday, some friends and I got up to some downtown Toronto shenanigans. We were the decoration – balloon – stealers. The first pub made it too easy, with helium balloons floating throughout the entire bar. Walking around all day with the flag of Ireland in balloon form, we could have been the “most noticed” people on Richmond Street. By the end of it all I had given my balloons away to the live band at Bier Market – our last destination during this unsanctioned pub crawl – as compensation for an encore.
It was VERY worth it.