February 1 was Imbolc/St. Brigid's Day. My facebook feed is flush with poetry and photos in honour of spring’s first flowers and flutterings. Snowdrops rise, resisting sleet and snow. Engagements were announced, and celebrated in our bar. And it's been sunny all day, sunshine like a sorceror's spell on my skin and my lips and my eyes, arousing a preconscious memory of vitality. It felt like the harsh darkness of winter - January a month of funerals and national tragedies - had been quelled, and there was a shift toward hope and renewal.


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The other night, a customer asked me, “Did you bring the Chinese flu?” Maureen said I should have reached over and clasped his hand and said, I did, Liam, I did.

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