"Glad that's over for another year." I yawned widely."Yeah, only a month and half until St. Patrick's Day." Shaun laughed as I elbowed him in the ribs..."Don't remind me; green beer and drunken college kids, yuck!" It's pouring the fifty thousand pints of Guinness that I hate," Shaun moaned gloomily. "That stuff is a pain in my ass." A properly poured pint of Guinness takes no small amount of skill and patience, luckily for Mac's, Shaun possessed both.His hand wandered lazily across my arm,. He laughed at our outhouse, and was impressed with our wigwams. He spent some time moving around the spare logs I’d split and staring down their lengths. “Good wood,” he said. He said not much else. He looked at everything.“It’s a nice place you got here,” he finally summarized, standing by our front door and looking out east over our tilled land, the wigwams and turkey pen framing the sides of the view. I felt so proud that he was impressed with it all! “Not bad at all,” he added, and that was. More

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