I’m really lucky.
I probably don’t say that often enough, but I am. My family on both sides is extremely close, and even though we have our differences (political, religious, cough cough), we genuinely care for each other. I am so thankful for that. I talk a big game about moving to Denver or wherever the hell else, and I probably will some day, but for now I love being so nearby.
Anyway. There is a point to that brief gushfest, I promise.
On Easter, the beau and I spent the day with my family. We had to cut our visit short so we could run back to Brooklyn to clean our new apartment in preparation for moving the next day, but we got in a few good hours, and plenty of good food. While we were all sitting around talking, I casually mentioned that after going to the St. Patrick’s Day parade, I had major Irish sweater envy. There were so many nice ones there! When I went to Ireland a few years ago I bought a nice Aran shawl, but I wanted a sweater. Something with sleeves.
Then, my mom said something marvelous (I swear, the angels started singing): “Oh, I think your aunt had asked us a few months ago if we wanted an Irish sweater, she had gotten one but didn’t like how it fit so she wanted to give it away.”
What? Seriously? Yes, she confirmed, and I think it’s still downstairs, if you want to try it on.
I did. I fell in love. I wore it the rest of the day, and wore it last weekend too. It’s so comfortable and luxurious and handmade by one of my aunt’s friends, so it’s clearly a quality garment.
How lucky am I? Very. Afterwards, I tried the old “oh, I really wish I had a winning lotto ticket” line to see if that could be supplied as well, but I suppose that was pushing my luck.
The moral of this story: if you want an Irish sweater, ask around. They aren’t for everyone, and chances are one of your relatives may have one lying around for you. Please note: this usually works better if you have an Irish or Irish-American relative.