At least the Irish people I know are like that. My husband's family is composed of lads and lasses of 100% pure Irish blood, I believe. Both sides of his family tree are populated with Roaches, Buckleys, McCoys, Sweeneys, Mullanes, Foleys, and the like. I, on the other hand, am a mutt. My mother's maiden name is Kelly, but I think I'm technically only 1/8-1/4 Irish (and in fact I'm about 1/2 English, which means that my British ancestors were the oppressors of my husband's Irish ones--how sad!).* The one thing not blatantly Irish about my husband's clan is the name Pearl, which doesn't really sound very Irish at all. I sometimes wonder if it was misinterpreted and given a new spelling somewhere along the way, when an immigrant to this country had a brogue too thick to understand.
Anyway, fully Irish or not, I am fascinated by and drawn to Irish culture. I would love the opportunity to travel to Dublin one day with my husband, who occasionally flies there--and by that, I mean pilots planes filled with Dublin-bound passengers. Our beloved Notre Dame Fighting Irish are actually playing a football game there in the fall, and barring any unforeseen circumstances we are planning to go over and watch the game--and do a little sightseeing on the Emerald Isle as well.
In the meantime, I have turned our two oldest sons' former bedroom into a guestroom with a decidedly Irish decorative theme going on.
|For the record, this bedroom looked NOTHING like this when two messy boys were inhabiting it.|
*If I got my percentages wrong here, I'm sure to hear about it from my Dad (our self-appointed family genealogist).