I feel vindicated.
Eight years ago, on a brisk St. Patrick’s Day night, I was sitting in Assisi with twenty-eight of my dear friends. We were at a little cafe eating gelato and drinking beer, like anyone should be doing in Assisi on St. Patrick’s Day. Father Peter Mitchell was playing the penny whistle and Sebastian Jansen was playing guitar, and we were serenading Italian street life with every Irish tune we knew.
Did I mention we were on a silent retreat? Hm.
That weekend alone has blog fodder for a few weeks. Climbing out windows, delivering gelato to the Mother of the Proto-Monastery of St. Clare, eating fish with eyeballs… and one of the greatest Lenten retreats I’ve ever experienced.
Anyway, back to St. Patrick’s Day. The little bar only had Guinness Extra Stout in their refrigerator, and we drank all they had. I love Guinness, but this tasted a little funny to me.
So I did the only thing to do.
I poured it over my gelato.
If I recall, everyone thought I was crazy. But everyone already thought I was crazy, so there you go.
I love Guinness. I love gelato. So why not a Guinness float?
“Ewww!” They exclaimed. “That’s weird!”
Well, today I’ve been vindicated by The Pioneer Woman. You know, that bandwagon that everyone has jumped on? If she blogs about it, it must be good. She blogged today about … Guinness Floats. She admits they sound “like a weird, grody concoction,” and while she cautions that they are strange and different, she also describes them as “delicious.”
I’m sorry to delay the post about bathroom painting to bring you this random post filled with strange pictures of me eight years ago. But I owed it to my 2005 self.