Where's my day?



So, yesterday was St. Patrick's Day.  I know it is a sacrilege, but we didn't go to a parade, much less eat corn beef and cabbage. I love it, but considered the fact that it is high in sodium so passed on fixing it.  I know, once in a while won't really hurt, but Michael had already been to MickyDees and was over his sodium limit for the day.

Anyway, I was to trying to think of a day that is reserved for the English, a national British Day, since that is our heritage. Let's see, certainly not Fourth of July, by any means. Thanksgiving began from people originating from England, but that doesn't celebrate the English.  It celebrates their thanks for being free from the English in fact, in addition to their survival of the first winter.  So that doesn't work either.

African Americans have a month of recognition for their achievements and even the Metis Indians in Lewistown have an entire weekend with dances, music and traditional foods. But, I can't think of one day that remembers my heritage. Couldn't we have a fun day dedicated to us? 

Of course, granted the English do have a reputation for being a bit stuffy, so it might be difficult to come up with a way to celebrate that would equal the mad cap fun of the Irish.  There must be someway that would respect their respectability, while having a little fun along the way anyway.

Okay, maybe taking on the creation of a national holiday for the British is  a little out of my league.  So I'll just let it go, for now.  But, I'll be thinking about it.  How about King Henry the Eighth Day?  Lots of possibilities with that.