The day after and the day before - the soothsayer and the saint
Julius Caesar made an error in judgment on March 15 in 44 B.C. Scoffing at a soothsayer's warning about the Ides of March, he went to the Roman Senate where he was stabbed to death by 60 conspirators. Helped in large part by Shakespeare's telling of the story, March 15 comes around each year with the warning:
Well I'm still here on the day after. No stabbing pains anywhere, (which at my age is somewhat remarkable!) and I'm still in power - at my house anyway. All because I did not got to the Senate. So there!
I've never belonged to a senate let alone gone to a meeting of one and I'm not likely to ever be a Senator, but surely that's a moot point? I pay attention to warnings from soothsayers, saints, and those niggling bad feelings about situations and people. I do my research and proceed (or not) with caution. It's worked for me so far.
Now, on to the next celebration to which I have no ancestral claim: St. Patrick's Day. No Irish blood as far as I know, yet I will be baking up Irish soda bread and oat cakes today to accompany a few brew friends joining us on tomorrow.
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Sláinte!
©2023 April Hoeller
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