It’s that time of the year again. That time where the least Irish of us all run around in “Kiss Me I’m Irish” shirts and act a fool.
Well, despite my red hair, I am actually predominately Welsh, German and English. I guess there is Irish probably in me somewhere, but none that I can prove with paperwork. My maiden name is Dodson, but it’s not as German as it sounds. If House of Names is to be believed, it’s a masculine family version of Dodd or rather “Son of Dodd.” Exactly the same as Coulson is “The Son of Coul” to Thor. Apparently our battle cry amounts to “careful amid plenty” and a few of us moved to Ireland. But for some reason we didn’t last in Ireland. Due to the nature of my father’s family…I’ve never done any thorough genealogy, that side of my family, while loved is hard for me to communicate with.
On my mother’s side I am an Avey and back a little further a Livette. Almost all of that family traces back to England via Canada. Several member of my family have done careful genealogical work on that side and I can get back well into the 1800s. My mom does a lot of work on that side.
I guess my point here is that; the red hair is a lie. If I am Irish it’s by virtue of my family marrying one or two while living there. Something I’ll never be able to fully prove or disprove because going back that far is harder than it looks. So tonight, if you see me out and I’m not wearing green, you probably shouldn’t pinch me. I don’t like being pinched.
Happy St. Patrick’s day everyone. Don’t drink too much, certainly don’t drive and please…don’t make a fool of yourself.