Our Emerald Isle - Potato Day

 

Brian and I were staying up late drinking our usual black and tan.  Abdul had gone to bed much earlier due to some religious holiday he seems to come up with all the time.  Bev and Ray the Raven were in the kitchen concocting some sort of special desert for tomorrow’s noon day crowd.  How Ray the Raven was helping I am really not sure.  Traci of course was still on her date and no telling when she would be home. 

 

Brian and I were just about to give it up for the evening when Traci came home dragging one of the local home boys by the arm.  “Brian, Snapper, you got to hear this, go get Bev she ought to hear it also.”  Bev came from the kitchen wiping her hands with a dishtowel with Ray the Raven resting upon her shoulder. “Got to hear what?” I said.

 

“Tell’em Scott,” Traci said.

 

“Well it isn’t that big a deal,” Scott the home boy began.  “I just happened to ask what Devere’s was planning to do this year for Potato Day.”

 

All but Scott had puzzled expressions.  Even Ray the Raven cocked his head to one side like he knew what was being talked about and I am not sure half the time he doesn’t know.  “Ok,” young man Brian said, “I’ll bite what are you talking about?  Potato Day?  I’ve never heard of it.  What’s that, some sort of day when we all dress up like potatoes and parade up and down the street?”

 

It was Scott’s turn to looked puzzled.  “I thought you never heard of it, how did you know?  Traci, you tell them I am getting confused and crossed signals from your brother and by the looks of the rest of your family them too.”

 

“Oh, alright,” Traci said, “ I’ll do the explaining.  While you two over protective big brothers hang around this pub of ours in the evening I have been going down to the library studying up on local history.  I came across an article in the news paper archives a bout last year’s Potato Day celebration.  It sounded fun but wondered if it was true or not.  You know Snapper, you have always said that facts should not get in the way of a good story.  Anyway I went to the head librarian, which just so happens to be Scott here, and asked him about Potato Day.  He confirmed the authenticity of the piece and was surprised no one had mentioned it to us already.”

 

“That’s about right sir,” said Scott.  “All the businesses in the village sponsor an entry and if you don’t you might find your selves being shunned regardless if you are the only drinking establishment in the village.  It’s the third most sacred holiday in Devere.”

 

“Why is it so sacred?” Bev asked.

 

“According to tradition there were a band of monks that could no longer stand the dictatorial way their Abbot conducted business in the monastery.  They were always being told what to do and how to do it, from the way the prayed to the way they ate.  Life of a monk is hard, chaste, and full of poverty, but their religious leader was going beyond what they thought appropriate.  Apparently the Irish Clan King that had established the order agreed with the Abbot and refused to acknowledge a new Abbot when a vote of the monks took place.  Some of monks felt they had no choice but to leave and find a safe haven where they could practice their faith the way they felt was God’s call.

 

“They walked for days which turned into months and just when they had run out of provisions they were befriended by a group of Fairies.  The Fairies took them in, provided shelter and fed them over the winter.  They taught the monks how to grow potatoes so they would become self sufficient in the future and even helped them build a monastery which eventually became our church here in Devere.

 

“After the first year harvest of their first crop of potatoes a celebration of thanks was in order.  As the population grew so did the celebration of thanks and like most holidays started taking on modern characteristics until it became what it is. 

 

“On or about the fourth Saturday after the third Sunday after the first full moon in November the whole town gathers in the square.  Each person dresses up like a potato and they march from the square to the church where a celebration of thanks is given.  You have to figure out what you all will wear this year.”  Traci concluded.

 

The story had a familiar ring and I tried to figure out why but my pondering was soon over taken by the practicalities of trying to figure out what kind of apparel could be made to look like a potato that wouldn’t make us all look like Mr. Potato Head.  However I was sure that Bev could figure out something.  As Bev was tossing out different ideas about how we would dress and what kind of potato we would dress like, Traci said that Bev did not have to concern herself with what Traci would wear or what kind of potato she would be.

 

Traci and Scott looked at each other with a moon struck puppy dog expression and Scott said, “Traci will be my sweet potato this year.”

 

Brian and I looked at each and rolled our eyes.  I guess Traci will be spending a lot more time at the library from now on.