Missy Barrett's Adventures

The amazing adventures of a fictional child

Fiddling, Fiddlers, and Fiddle-dee-dee

on March 18, 2015

Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day, and I got to go back to the retirement place that had the ribbon cutting. I went with my grandpa and mostly it was because I asked if he could take me to see my great-uncle Ovide so all of us could celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

I know my grandpa and my great-uncle aren’t Irish, but my other grandpa says that on St. Patrick’s Day everybody is Irish, so yesterday, my grandpa and his brother were Irish and I was, too.

When we got there, my great-uncle was in his special seniors bachelor apartment listening to fiddle music.   And you know what?  It was by this guy from the rez they grew up at and he’s not Irish either but he kind of sounds like he could be because Irish fiddling sounds a whole lot like Mohawk fiddling.  It was so good that it made my feet want to dance like when we go to a Pow Wow, except that I couldn’t do that where we were at.  I didn’t want to maybe have too much energy like my mom sometimes says I’ve got.  So I behaved, and I think my grandpa was really proud of me for that.

Then we went to this part of the place where they have tea time in the afternoon, and I had a fruit juice and two cookies with green icing when my grandpa and great-uncle had tea.

There were these three ladies at the table next to ours, and one of them asked me if I’d like to join them.  My grandpa said I could but he gave me that look and I know what it means. It means I’m supposed to be very polite, and say “no, thank you” and “yes, please” and answer questions nicely but with not too many words.  That way other people have a chance to do what my grandpa calls a fair share of talking.

Everybody needs a fair share of talking otherwise one person is hogging the whole conversation, and nobody like a conversation hogger.  So I didn’t want to be a conversation hogger, and then everybody at the place would say to my great-uncle, “Hey, that Missy Barrett sure is a conversation hogger!”  Then my great-uncle would be embarrassed and he might even be so embarrassed he might say to my grandpa, “Don’t let Missy Barrett come back here.  My friends told me she’s a conversation hogger.

But anyway, I was not a conversation hogger, and they taught me this great song for St. Patrick’s Day.  Now I can’t get it out of my head.  It’s still spilling out of me even when I’m keeping it inside.  I sure hope it’s the kind of St. Patricks’ Day song you can sing on other days, too.

Ta-ra-ra BOOM-dee-yay!  Ta-ra-ra BOOM-dee-yay!


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