Alas, Mr Bloom had quite the day on June 16th. He had his sandwich and a glass of burgundy for lunch at Davy Byrne's Pub. He found the barmaids to be wonderful siren temptresses at the Ormond Hotel where he stopped in for a pint. It is curious that a novel so completely soaked in Ireland could be written by an author who decided he hated Ireland and that he would never again be found on her soil. Ulysses is a classic. If you haven't read it, today may be your day. For today is Bloomsday. Ulysses happens over the course of one day in Ireland. Leopold Bloom's day parallels that of The Odyssey - his girl is being courted by another man, and over the course of the 18 hours, navigates several tests to win her back.
The date of the book was chosen because it was the day that Joyce had his first date with his future wife. Over a century later, Bloomsday is still celebrated not just in Ireland, but all over the world. Though the biggest celebration attempts to relive Leo's day - it is really a reason to eat Irish food, drink Irish beer, and tell great tales of life, love, and fishing (aren't all fishing stories great tales?).
Well, I may not read Ulysses today, but I will settle for a bit of Gorgonzola and a pint. I don't see any vegetables in my immediate future unless they get served on my cheese sandwich or are carefully hidden in my pint of Guiness. And honestly, if there were a vegetable or two hiding in your pint, could you see through the stout to find it? After all, there is a pork chop hiding in every glass.
May the lilt of Irish laughter
lighten every load.
May the mist of Irish magic
shorten every road...
And may all your friends remember
all the favours you are owed!