Everyone is Irish on St. Patty's Day

Happy one-month anniversary of St. Patrick's Day!

(Okay, so I got a little behind in my posts.  

It's been a busy month.  In a good way.  More posts to follow.)

For St. Patty's Day we pilgrimmaged to NY, via Weehawken. NJ.  

Here Kit shows how a little reflected morning sunshine gives a whole room a touch o' the shamrock.  Or Blarney, it's hard to tell.

We got an impromptu tour of Harlem, including the Cotton Club (not shown here because it went by without warning) and the famed Apollo Theater.

And this famous spot, Lynne's office!  Somewhere above the Red Rooster, the magic of accounting takes place...

We heard there was a parade.  

So did about a million of our best friends.  

If you don't think they are best friends at the beginning of the day, try mobbing around with them for a few hours and see what you think.

This is what the sidewalk looked like for blocks.

Really.

This parade was a little thin on diversity.  

There were bagpipe and drum bands.

And soldiers from virtually every war ever fought.

More bagpipe and drum bands. 

(I'm going to have to do some research: I thought bagpipes were Scottish...)

And miles of police and firefighters.  In this segment, there were flags for fallen comrades.

There were soberingly too many flags.

After we retired from the parade, we explored down by the river.  doesn't this cosmopolitan couple look happy here?

We finished up a delightful day at a Persian restaurant in Manhattan.  

We liked it so much, we set it on fire.  

(Did you know that styrofoam burns when it comes within about a furlong of an open flame, like, say, a candle on a table?)

Yes, indeed, dear readers, there is a story here, which shall be saved for some future date....

In the meantime, Erin Go Braugh!