Friday everyone is supposed to wear green clothing at work, in honor of Saint Patrick’s Day. Well, I ain’t wearin’ no green. My Irish ancestors emigrated from County Fermanagh, one of the Six Counties, and they weren’t any kind of indigenous Irish. The Carsons came originally from southwest Scotland, and apparently were transplanted during one of the several waves of Settlement in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.
So I went to the fabric store yesterday, and bought three yards of an obnoxiously loud orange silk noil that happened to be on sale for $3.50 a yard (half off its regular price), and L is making me a dress shirt of it, which I intend to wear Friday. I wonder, though, whether anyone will get the Joe Miller of it, or whether I’ll merely be taken for an overly-enthusiastic Longhorn fan (the University’s colors are orange and white).
Grandmother must purloin the poor shark from the Death Star. Fnord.
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