Despite having blessed our children with Irish names, my husband and I aren’t of Hibernian descent, and on St. Patrick’s Day our main goal is usually to avoid pubs advertising green beer. We are aware of it though, and this year it was especially pleasant.

It was Sunday, so we didn’t have any morning obligations. The sky was unmarred ultramarine, with balmy temps topping off around 70° F. My husband purchased and planted one pepper and five tomato plants in a smiling arc around our thriving avocado tree. All the trees in the garden display dramatically thrusting shoots, though one rose bush seems to be marooned in winter drab.

There was a minus tide at 3:00 pm, so I put on sandals and pedal pushers for the first time this year and headed out about ten of two. Here’s how our beach looked from the cliff.

Most of those people are wearing either skimpy swimsuits or wetsuits, and those black dots in the water are surfers. I spent a lot of time in the tide pool but I didn’t have much luck, at least not in terms of seeing rarer sea life. I enjoyed being outside, listening to and watching waves and shorebirds, bathing my feet and hands in healing seawater, and checking out the copious numbers of anemones and hermit crabs. I also saw the smallest snail ever, can you spot it? It’s dark purple.

I wanted a closeup shot so I picked up the rock it was on but I couldn’t hold it and shoot, so I put it down and zoomed my camera, then when I looked down again it had moved on. Clever! So the best I can offer is a crop of the previous image. I think its shell is about the size of my pinkie finger.

We decided to go downtown to hear the band of a schoolmate of my husband’s, and found them busking on the main drag, having been re-scheduled from 7:00 to 9:00 pm at the Catalyst. Too late for us on a school night! Bill ran into another schoolmate while we were listening. Running into someone you know is typical in SC.

We checked out the Catalyst, which is funky and cheap, and after encountering a young fellow who assured us he would be taking off his shirt soon but didn’t, we opted for craft cocktails in a more sedate atmosphere at Front and Cooper. Mine included cognac marinated with bananas, cardamom, and rosemary smoke. It was exquisite. We got a demonstration of the smoke infuser as well as stories about the first mayor of SC in 1876, William Cooper, whose portrait showed him with a lush, snowy beard.

We drove to and from in the Mustang, with the top down. I carried a sweater, but didn’t don it.

One other thing that could be SPD-related but isn’t: Three days ago I decided to revert to my auburn hair color, but I slightly overdid it. This is not really an Irish look, unless it’s Irish Goth. Here I am photographed in white light that same night, which makes the hair look lighter.

What could make this day better? A soak in the hot tub. Perfect.