Ah! Irish drinking stories, Irish blessings and Irish proverbs are my favorite posts. If for some reason I could not post these, I might forget the activity altogether. And we do have some remarkable samples today, if I do say so myself.
Thomas O’Shea, an Irish solicitor from Waterford County, was on holiday in the country doing a bit of fox hunting. After a long chase and a valiant effort on the part of the fox, his group’s wounded prey had somehow managed to wiggle through a very small hole in a farmer’s fence and had met its end in the farmer’s field just the other side of the fence. The group’s dogs were unable to get through the fence, so they all gathered nearby the fence hole and at the same time were letting out a howling and ruckus that could be heard throughout the countryside.
As O’Shea dismounted his horse and began climbing over the fence to retrieve the fox, the elderly farmer who owned the land was drawn over to the site by the dogs’ incessant barking. The farmer, who went by the name of William Walsh, suddenly appeared before O’Shea and asked him what he was up to.
The litigator replied, “I shot that fox that you see lying there that my dogs chased over the countryside and through your fence, and now I intend to pick it up.”
However, old man Walsh had a different take on the situation and said to O’Shea in a rather smart tongue, “This is my property that ye’ve crossed onto, and I’m a’tellin’ ye that ye’re not takin’ my fox with ye.”
“Your fox!” cried O’Shea, who had become indignant at the mere thought that the fox belonged to the farmer. “I’ll have you know that I’ve chased that fox for kilometers, I have. Over hills and dales and through creek beds we ran. I’ve chased down that fox fair and square, and I intend to take it back with me to the clubhouse, oh yes I do!”
Old William Walsh replied, “The law says ye cannot hunt on a farmer’s land without his permission, and ye do not have my permission. The fox is mine.”
“The law!” yelled O’Shea. “I’ll have you know that I’m one of the very best solicitors in all of Ireland, I am. If you don’t let me retrieve that fox, I’ll take you to court for everything that you own!”
Old man Walsh cast a cagey eye over his adversary, then he said, “Well now, being as how ye’re a city feller and not from around here, ye don’t know how folks around here settle these things. Hereabouts we use the triple-kick method.”
“And what might that be?” asked the lawyer, sensing that there may be a way to settle this to his satisfaction.
Old Walsh said, “First I kick ye three times. Then ye do the same to me. We go back and forth like that till one or ta udder gives up.”
Thomas O’Shea ran this thought over in his mind. He soon decided that he could easily take this old man, and quickly agreed to the farmer‘s offer.
The old farmer slowly walked over to O‘Shea. Then he suddenly swung a hard right kick that implanted the toe of his heavy work boot into the solicitor’s privates, a kick that dropped Thomas O’Shea quickly to his knees.
The farmer then let loose with a second blow to O’Shea’s face that nearly broke the lawyer’s nose clean off of his face.
O’Shea lay prostrate on the ground in agony as the farmer prepared his third kick. It landed smack dab in the solicitor’s kidney forcing him to arch his back in profound pain. Writhing in absolute agony, the attorney was unsure whether or not he would be able to rise now that his turn had come.
Severe pain wracked O’Shea’s entire body as he dug deep down into his very soul for every ounce of will power and strength. Slowly, he dragged himself to an upright position with only thoughts of revenge raging through his head. O’Shea growled to Walsh, “Okay, you old fart, now it’s my turn.”
To which old man Walsh just smiled and said, “Naw! I believe that I’ll give up now. Ye won. Ye can have the fox.”
May your glass be ever full,
May the roof over your head be always strong,
And may you be in heaven
Half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
Another Irish Toast:
Tis better to spend money like there’s no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there’s no money!
Grady Quinn entered McCafferty’s Pub looking for someone he might know. He spied old Colin Murphy alone at a table, drinking all by himself and drinking fast and loose, he was. As Grady approached old Colin he noticed that Colin looked in terrible shape. “Colin,” said Grady. “You look just terrible, you do. What’s wrong my friend?”
Said Colin, “Me mother died in July, leavin’ me $40,000, she did.”
“Oh No!” replied Grady. “Well, no wonder you…”
“Wait!” interrupted Colin. “There’s more. Then in August me dear dad up and passed from the consumption. The dear man left me $80,000, he did.”
“Well, Colin, that’s just awful,” answered Grady. “Losing both of your parents in two months time would put a strain on the best of us, it would. No wonder you’re in here drinkin’ your sorrows away.”
“Listen!” said Colin. “There’s more yet. Then last month me favorite aunt fell sick and passed, just like that, she did. The dear soul left me $38,000.”
“Oh, Colin! You poor, poor man,” said Grady. “Losin’ three dear loved ones in just three months time. How terribly sad.”
“Then this month!” continued Colin. “This month came and went, it did. And…nothing!…absolutely nothing!”
An Irish Blessing to Luck:
“May you have all the happiness
and luck that life can hold—
And at the end of all your rainbows
may you find a pot of gold.”
Another Irish Blessing to Luck:
“May the luck of the Irish
Lead to happiest heights
And the highway you travel
Be lined with green lights.”
Tis a little known fact that the Irish claim that Jesus was Irish. Of course, the claim usually arises only after a few pints have been consumed.
So, why do the Irish believe that Jesus was Irish?
Because he was 33, still lived at home, thought his mother was a virgin and she thought he was the son of God.
Another Irish Blessing:
Like the warmth of the sun
And the light of the day,
May the luck of the Irish
Shine bright on your way.
And we end our Blessings with a Gaelic Prayer that is centuries old. There are many versions of this Blessing, and this is but one of them:
Deep peace of the running waves to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the smiling stars to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the watching shepherds to you.
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
Our video once again features Celtic Woman this time singing “Spanish Lady”:
reddit_title=’Irish Drinking Stories, Blessings and Proverbs Galore – Video’