Just as my eyes were starting to tear up at the thought of missing upcoming St. Patrick's Day celebrations (we try to "hit" 3 places during the day, down about half from our younger years), a surprise package arrived filled with Irish goodies like this. Admittedly, we made short work of those delicious Guinness chips (boy, are they good), and the other things cheered me up now and will be put to good use on St. Paddy's Day. No, we're not terribly worried about catching the corona virus, but on the other hand, given our "underlying conditions" and age, we'd be stupid to immerse ourselves in the kind of crowds the bars around here get. Anyway, to my cousin Rhonda, the angel who sent the care package, 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.