Editor’s note: It’s always that third wish…
Top of the morning to ye dear friends it is I, Terry Traveler. This March I bring you good tidings from the wondrous, Emerald Isle- Ireland.
This beautiful land reminds me of Iowa, what with the castles and barns. The weather seems pretty much the same, and the people are just as nice.
It took a great deal of explaining in broken Gaelic to the kind Inn Keeper who spoke English that I had no need for the wool sweater and Cinnamon Sticks I accidentally ordered from room service. When my meal finally arrived, I received a Tayto Sandwich: two pieces of white bread, buttered, with potato chips inside. It wasn’t the blood sausage I ordered, but it was tasty. I later discovered this is a modern Irish delicacy.
The next day I spoke again with the friendly Inn Keeper who blamed the mishap on the neighborhood leprechauns who must have messed with the order. In a land as lush and green as Ireland, it is not surprising to hear stories of leprechauns- wee people of magic and cobbling living the life of faeries. Yes, the tiny shoemakers, the Inn Keeper said, love dancing so much they are in constant need of new footwear. In my experience, the wisest of whom simply chooses to go barefoot.
On my third day in Ireland I met Bartley and fine chap he was. Standing a mere two feet tall, with a long red beard and a wildly mischievous look in his eyes. We hit it off right away. As legend goes, once caught, a leprechaun will grant three wishes in exchange for their freedom. My wishes were simple- that I be healthy, that my family be happy, and a third wish I poorly phrased which now means I can never remove my beloved orange parka. Luckily, I own stock in Febreeze.
This is Terry Traveler saying, it may not be true but this time we can blame it on the blarney stone.