March

March is a busy month.

It’s National Women’s History Month. There is a perfectly wonderful Women’s History Museum page. Very inspiring.  

Spring break for a lot of schools. Here in Florida we’re bracing for the influx of sun and fun lovers.

There’s March madness. If you’re not into college basketball you probably know nothing about that.  If you are into college B ball no need to say more.

The Feast of St Joseph is March 19^th.   Big day for Italians.

March 17^th is St Patrick’s Day. The Irish in the US celebrate BIG time.

We lived in Kansas City and there was a huge parade and other activities that may or may not have included adult beverages. A very Irish friend had an uncle visiting from the ‘old country’ and that was the first time I realized the day wasn’t celebrated (at that time early 80s) all that much in Ireland. The man was quite taken aback with the celebration. He was recounting all he’d seen when he paused, looked at us all serious and said, “And that green beer.” He shook his head. “They’ll be peeing green for a month I know.”

My characters from Under Fire: The Admiral, Gemma and Ben, shared an experience they had a few months ago while visiting Ireland.     

They were in the Irish countryside on a very dark, stormy night–really it was–in the middle of nowhere. They’d stopped at a local pub for dinner and were enjoying the food, pints, and conversation when the pub door slammed open. A soaking wet, obviously upset young man stood in the doorway. He rushed in babbling about a horrible experience.

He was settled into a chair and given a pint. The beer was half-gone before he could string words into sentences and answer the many questions. The young man explained he was backpacking through Ireland and on a deserted road with rain pelting down so hard he could hardly see a few feet ahead. Finally, a car came slowly towards him and stopped. Desperate for shelter and thinking he was being offered a ride, he got in and closed the door only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel. Even though the engine wasn't on, the car once again started moving. Ireland’s many ghost stories rumbled through his brain and fear paralyzed him. That is until he looked at the road ahead and saw a curve looming. Gathering courage, he prepared to jump. Then, through the driver’s window, a ghostly hand appeared out of gloom. In terror, he watched as the hand turned the wheel, guiding the car around the curve.

The lights of the pub appeared and gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran for it.

A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying.  

Once again the door slammed open, startling everyone, and two men walked in from the dark and stormy night. They too were soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing the young man sobbing at the bar, one said to the other...

"Look ....there's that fookin idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it!" 

Rita.