The Houghs: Erin Go Bragh

Slainte, America.

Breakfast of Champions.

I know, I know - today isn't technically St. Patrick's Day. That was Thursday, I get it. But - and you should all know this by now, God knows I've been chronicling these annual events for like the last twenty years on various blogs of mine - we here at the Hough House choose to celebrate this on the Saturday closest to the Great Day. Some years that falls on the Saturday before, sometimes the Saturday after. All depends on when Clare - and the city of Melbourne, FL before that - decides to host their annual Irish Fest.

This year, it came afterwards, and we had to adjust our expectations a little bit this time around. Unlike the previous few years, when we held large, full-blown St. Patrick's Day parties with 50-60 people in attendance, this year we decided to scale things back a few clicks. This was chiefly for two reasons: 1.) Danielle's 40th Birthday party (remember that?) was the previous week, and a lot of people can't lock in two weekends in a row for themed parties, and 2.) this was the first time in years (thanks, Covid) that the City of Clare was holding a full-on Irish Fest (the two previous years were scaled back to the point where only a couple bars were open, they didn't host parades or any other events like that.)

After Kris woke up, I switched to coffee. Irish coffee.

Kris and I decided that our plan of attack for the day would be to try and get to Clare by 10am-ish, hang out downtown for a bit - hit the Doherty up for a few beers, watch the parade, try and meet up with some friends and family for a few hours - then head back to Midland to have an Irish-themed 'get-together' instead of a party. 30 people instead of 60. Much more low-key and not something to stress over.

Aside from the weather (which was abysmal) we managed to pull it off without a hitch. I kinda missed having a large party to come home to at the end of the night - not gonna lie - but at least we were able to do something after hitting up Clare (not to mention the fact that our larger parties require more prep-work, and that would've further cut into our Clare time.) Not sure how things are gonna pan out next year, but at least now we know we have some options.

Anyway, here's a shit-load of pictures and video, chronicling the Houghs' 2022 Saint Patrick's Day (Observed.)

Behold. . .

A couple of the dads from our friend group go to Clare every year, based on my recommendation - Brad, Erik, and Mitch went this year - and left earlier in the morning. They usually head out after breakfast, around 9am, then leave Clare by 2pm. We planned on bumping into them at some point while we were down there.

En route from Midland. And yes, this year we had the Johnson kid in tow.

We headed to the Doherty right upon entering town in order to snag a decent parking spot - at 10:30am that was still manageable. I bumped into my old high school buddy Trevor and his wife, Sara, in the parking lot, and we accompanied them inside.

Warming up in the Doherty. The girls are in the foreground, and you can see Trevor in the background in the hat wearing a green hoodie.

Kris wanted to hit up the Clare City Bakery first before it got slammed, so we parted ways with the McNerneys and assured them we'd touch base with them in a bit. This year Clare had tons of food trucks lining the downtown stretch of McEwan, which was pretty awesome. As you can tell, the weather was pretty shitty.

The crowd level inside the bakery wasn't bad at all - nothing out of the ordinary - which was a nice surprise.

Alayna and Ella picked out their doughnuts right away, but of course Abby had to stress her out deciding on an option.

Kris lays down the law.

Probably a safe assumption they don't typically have this set up in their front window. . .

We were lucky enough to grab up the last, remaining table in the place.

(Guess which one is too cool to get her picture taken these days.)

Alayna requested to take pictures with my SLR throughout the day. She's been expressing interest in getting a camera of her own lately - I'm gonna have to keep an eye out for a used SLR online or something (there's no way I'm dropping hundreds of dollars on one for her to play around with.)

Kris enjoys taking pics like this.

Post-donut.

It should come as no surprise that Kris wanted the kids to utilize the inside props while we were there.

. . . and no, Alayna was not interested in getting one herself.

But she did want to get one of us.

Leaving the Clare City Bakery

Crowd levels were still pretty good, I was concerned that the crappy weather would drive everyone indoors.

The McNerneys sent us this selfie to update us on their current location. We must've just missed them.

Kris wanted to check out a local boutique that she spotted downtown. The usual chick stuff - wraps, fancy soaps, knick knacks, and even a dude playing acoustic guitar - but they did have a photo op that Kris made the girls pose in front of.

Funned out.

Strolling down McEwan Street

The last time I had heard from the dads, they told me they were in the Timeout Tavern (which I haven't ever checked out before), so while Kris ran the girls inside to find them, I hung out on the street and caught up with the McNerneys.

They weren't there, but had instead ran across the street to the bar inside the Doherty, so we once again headed that way. We were momentarily stuck at the door because a corps of pipers were putting on a performance for the patrons. Bagpipes are like lembas bread for the soul.

I want one of these posters sooooo bad for my new downstairs bar area. . .

Upon finding the dads, Kris took the girls to check out the rest of the hotel and hit up the bathrooms for a bit while I hung back so that Mitch - shown here - could order us up a round of Guinness.

Some old timey scale they found in the girls bathroom.

Meanwhile, back at the bar. . .

Mitch took this selfie and sent it out to the rest of the dads in our group text thread. . . then immediately got shit for its abysmal quality. They kept telling him I should've been the one to take it.

After drinking a beer with those clowns, I met up with Kris and the girls by a spot they had staked out in front of the hotel for the upcoming Irish Fest Parade.

Kris nabs another one.

The Sheriff's Department of Clare (who take themselves waaaay too seriously.)

The ol' alma mater.

I texted BP this picture, since he was stuck at his folks' house over on Wilcox, and consequently boxed in for most of the parade (they line the parade up down his road.) 95% of Clare's parades every year revolve around the fire and emergency vehicles from every township in the mid-Michigan area, it's ridiculous.

Still dreary out, but at least the rain held off the whole time we were in Clare.

Imagine that, she's on her phone again. . . .

Abby and Ella (I guess these hats came from someone Ella knows. . .?)

The legendary Clown Band.

This year was different in that they let the people of Clare line up at the middle line of the road. Not sure what good that did, but whatever.

The parade was still going strong but everyone was getting cold and was no longer into it (all the cool stuff passed by in the first ten minutes, and you can only look at fire trucks for so long before you want to kill yourself.) As we were getting ready to leave, we met up with my parents (shown here, talking to some friends) and decided to go grab some food at one of the food trucks downtown.

Alayna takes my SLR again. . .

Service was a bit on the slow side, but I guess the food was good.

Kris feeds the youngsters.

Dad and Alayna

Ella and her chili cheese fries.

The girls decided to chow down right in front of this age-old institution of Clare.

As we were finishing up getting people food, BP and his family caught up with us, finally able to escape the confines of his folks' neighborhood with the parade finally clearing up.

With the weather frigid and damp, we all decided to head into the Doherty once again for some warmth (and a couple beers for BP and I.) Trevor was already inside and took these pics of us standing in the street like a bunch of assholes. You can see some of the Midland dads hanging out with us in the road - they were on their way back to the car to head back to Midland already.

The banquet hall's tables were already claimed, but the crowds weren't too bad at all - barely anyone was back in the hallways and rear lobby, so we had some breathing room while we warmed up. You can see Sara and the McNerney kids off to the far left there.

Pretty sure they're not supposed to be doing this. . .

Some crusty ol' Clare Pioneers.

After a half an hour or so - and a beer for good measure - we said goodbye to the McNerneys and the DeBoers (for the time being), and went back to Dad and Cindy's house for a bit so Kris could run over to visit with her mom, who wasn' feeling well. Before she ran over there she took this pic of me nerdily explaining my new bar's vintage stereo equipment to Dad.

After our grandparent visits, we swung through McDonald's and picked up the girls some obligatory Shamrock Shakes before jumping back on the highway for Midland.

The house was pretty much staged and ready to roll for our evening 's festivities, but Kris had some last-minute food stuff to do in the kitchen. Alayna had Lexi's birthday party sleepover to go to that afternoon, so she got to work wrapping up her present (which she ultimately forgot to take with her, and which I had to deliver the next morning when picking her up.) I dropped Alayna off around 4pm and then came back to help get last-minute party stuff around.

Dicing up potatoes, the most Irish of food.

It's criminal to not watch The Simpsons' Homer vs. The Eighteenth Amendment episode on St. Patrick's Day - I've been doing it for years.

Kris, working in her office.

Corned Beef for Sliders (over the years we've found this is the best way for folks to eat this at parties.)

She'll be soooo happy I posted this picture of her.

The DeBoers showed up around 5pm and BP and I made a last-minute run to Cork and Ale to pick him up some beer. Cutting it pretty close to the wire, but such things are required.

We only had five other families on hand this year, opposed to our usual eleven or twelve, but that was fine - made for a chill evening after along day of festivities.

The basement, on the other hand, was far from chill.

The kids played around on my new bar a lot - not like they could hurt it, I just told them to leave the turntable alone - and the younger kids decided they would turn the whole basement into a restaurant, complete with multiple tables, a waiting staff, menus, and live music.

Ryan crashes the kids' fun.

Delia waits tables.

Abby provides some karaoke for the basement patrons.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Kris broke out this whole setup from last year. Here's Audrey and Teagan (Mitch and Ryan's girls, respectively.)

And now one with Kelli.

Plenty of food on hand, as usual.

Mitch, BP, Erik and Ryan

Sam, Mees, Stefanie, and Kris

(Totally forget why everyone's clustered around this phone. . .)

More of the festive spread.

BP realizes that our couch pillows match his college-age, cuordory jacket.

Back in the basement, doing a routine check on how the kids are holding up. . .

The bar definitely got some use tonight. Just not from us adults.

Jameson and Guinness - my St. Pat's drink of choice (Ryan grabbed my SLR at this point.)

Time for some Irish Car Bombs

Down the hatch. . .

Some of the moms, getting use out of the backdrop.

The DeBoers

These couple of mooches kept lingering in the kitchen, hoping to catch fallen scraps. Zero shame.

The Bastard Bastard Harbor Mastah and The Embryonic Crusadah, ca. 2022.

Kelli, Audrey, and Mees

The guys hung out in the kitchen moreso than usual, probably on account of the fact that we still don't have our new lights installed in The Study (our old lights were removed when we had the ceiling repaired last month.)

Why are the kids upstairs?

The sign posted on the door leading down to the basement. They were not happy when adults had to go downstairs to access my beer fridge in the storage room.