KNICK-KNACK...DON’T GIVE PADDY A WHACK!

Bleating Tree Frog

Down Cathedral, Downpatrick, County Down, Northern Ireland

To my relief I’ve discovered it’s not only me who is confused, which is a novelty, I must admit!  

Previously I told the story about Rudolph and Prancer disguised as two Great Danes paying me a visit on Christmas Eve - well, to my surprise, they turned up again the other day, again dressed in their Great Dane costumes; or maybe they came as they really are...hmmmmm....

Because Thursday (tomorrow our time here in sunny south-east Queensland) is St. Patrick’s Day I’m not sure if the massive dogs were inspecting the clothes lines throughout the neighbourhood looking for suitable outfits to wear to the St. Paddy’s Day Parade.  Perhaps they were considering dressing up as St. Paddy in duplicate. They were out of luck here at my place because my clothes line was bare; that doesn't mean I'd been running around bare - sans clothes...it means I'd not fired up my washing machine!

Of course, they could’ve been checking the place out for snakes as Paddy would do on his special day as he did in his day; or perhaps they could’ve been practicing how to be a couple of giant leprechauns.

Another take on their reappearance could be they were getting in early for Easter, conducting a reconnaissance run around the property to uncover likely hiding spots for Easter eggs. Whoopee!  I might be getting a visit by two giant Easter bunnies!  Imagine the size of the basket and the quantity of eggs those two would be able to carry and deliver! I'd better make room in my fridge!

If the GDs (Great Danes aka Great Dogs) aren't going to drop off a pot of gold on Thursday or a woven basket full of dark chocolate Easter eggs come Easter I wish they’d stay home where they belong, wherever that is, instead of giving me a near heart attack each time they ramble around within my perimeters without notice or invitation.  I respect their boundaries; I expect similar in return (unless, of course, they come bearing gifts...particularly of the pot of gold kind). They had the audacity to bark at me when I told them where to go!

I might talk/write a lot of blarney, but there ain’t no blarney stone around here for me to kiss; no frog, either. Although, for a few months I did have a beautiful little Bleating Tree frog living in my bathroom, but he’s since gone on his way.  Every now and then I’d give him a gentle stroke, but I refused to kiss him. Obviously, he hopped off in a huff and went elsewhere looking for a fair maiden who was prepared to do so.

Throughout today - and tomorrow, St. Patrick’s Day -  if I see a rainbow followed by the sound of a loud clunk at my door, faster than Flash Gordon I’ll race outside to see if a pot of gold has landed on my doorstep.  Even though I don’t have an actual doorstep, with me, hope reigns eternal  – unchanging and perpetual!

Much of what is known about Paddy we probably can take with a grain of salt or what would fit on a shamrock leaf because most of the stories were allegedly written by St. Pat himself, giving him carte blanche to write what he wanted about himself; freedom to beef it up a bit; even embellish it to his heart’s content.  No one would think or dare to question him. 

When he was on the lam after fleeing his Irish raider kidnappers (his daily and nightly punishment was to shepherd their sheep during the six years of his enslaved capture), Paddy was left bereft of most of his clothing and wore a shamrock as a loincloth.

After escaping the callous clutches of his Gaelic abductors he returned home, not only to drive off those Pagans who were still lurking about the place, but also to teach his Irish mates how to drink and tell jokes.

Over a few pints (more like gallons) of Guinness to break all former Irish records and enough to end up in the Guinness Book of Records, the tale about ridding the Emerald Isle of Pagans changed from Pagans into snakes. It happens! Many a wild yarn has been spun over a bar.

Nothing has been recorded of Paddy visiting New Zealand, Antarctica, Iceland and Newfoundland and doing similar in those places regarding the removal of snakes, but the evidence (or lack of it) points towards him having done so because those countries don’t have any snakes.  Obviously, he didn’t bother to paddle across The Ditch from New Zealand to Australia because we have more than our fair share of snakes here, which just isn’t fair!  

It's unfair for a couple of reasons...like our neighbours across The Ditch, we have lots of sheep here in this country, too. Once upon a time, for a century or so, Australia was even accused of  "riding on the sheep's back" - that is, until the market shrunk; and it shrunk not from dipping our sheep and their fleecy fleece in boiling water while doing the laundry! 

Paddy would've gained lots of experience during his years taking care of the sheep belonging to his kidnappers....I'm just saying....

Paddy probably didn’t have the time to write about those exploits; either that or he ran out of ink and paper. 

You are, of course, aware I’ve made most of this up. Aren’t you?  It’s up to you to work out which bits. It’ll save you having to do today’s cryptic crossword puzzles.

Rumour has it St. Patrick is buried in a cathedral at Downpatrick, a town a little south of Belfast. 

A county town in County Down, “Downpatrick” seems an appropriate or coincidental name, doesn’t it?

Do you know that Downpatrick is also known as “Duno”?   I’m a bit green – I didn’t know.

However, I do know everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day!  Have fun!

Paddy Spud Rosemary Bread: Line baking tray. Sift 4c plain flour, 1tsp bicarb and 1tsp salt; make a well in centre. Add 600ml buttermilk; stir until dough starts to come together. Turn onto floured surface; knead 1-2mins until almost smooth. Shape into 35cm log; place on tray. Cut slashes diagonally at 3cm intervals in top. Insert halved, thin potato slices, overlap slightly and rosemary into slashes. Bake in 190C oven, 35-45mins.

Guinness-Glazed Lamb Chops: Bring 2c Guinness, 1/2c packed light brown sugar, 1-1/2tbs crushed coriander seeds, 1/2tsp crushed black peppercorns and 1/4tsp salt to boil; stir until sugar dissolves; boil until syrupy and reduced to about ½ cup; strain; discard solids. Pat dry 16 lamb cutlets; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Divide glaze into 2 bowls; set one aside. Brush both sides of chops with glaze; arrange on rack of grill pan. Grill 5 inches from heat, 4-5mins on each side for med-rare; transfer to plate; drizzle with remaining glaze.

Paddy’s Peppermint Pie: Heat oven, 175C. Crumb choc wafers to make 1-1/2c; mix 1/4c melted butter into crumbs; press evenly into 9-inch pie pan; push down firmly and up sides; bake 10mins; cool. Combine 3c mini marshmallow or 32 large ones and 1/2c milk in saucepan; cook over low heat; stir until melted; cool. Then add ¼ Crème de Menthe and 3tbs white Crème de Cacao. Fold marshmallow mix into 1-1/2c whipped cream; fold in a few drops of green food colouring; pour into crumb-lined pan; shave dark chocolate over top. Chill 5hrs or overnight.  You can also decorate it with whipped cream, if desired.

Ugly Leprechaun: Combine 45ml vodka, 15ml Irish Whiskey, 15ml Midori, 15ml sugar syrup and 4tbs Kiwi fruit puree with ice in cocktail shaker; shake; strain into martini glass; garnish with Kiwi fruit. 

Murphy lost a hundred dollars on the Melbourne Cup, a famous Australian horserace. He also lost another hundred on the television replay. 

Kieran O'Connor always slept with his gun under his pillow. Hearing a noise at the foot of the bed, he shot off his big toe.