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When I was young [in England, Ireland was ambivalent about WWs, poppies] Armistice Day was still marked on the 11th of November, with a 2 minute silence at 11:00hrs. You were expected to STOP what you were doing, stand up and remember the dead of WWI. But as the survivors of WWI diminished through subsequent attrition, and as Britain was again at it during WWII, this national mark of respect was considered too damaging to the economy and the main ceremonies were shifted to the nearest Sunday, when many workers resting anyway. Most other official religious and secular holidays have shifted to the nearest Monday rather than the day itself. St Patrick's Day is a most welcome bucker of this trend as it cycles through the week rather than being bundled into a Long Weekend.

Likewise birthdays, if you-as-an-adult are going to have A Party to celebrate clocking off another year, chances are you'll shift it to the nearest weekend - to increase the likelihood that your friends & relations can be present to raise a glass and down some cake. Today, according to Daylight Saving Time, is my birthday: my actual birth was just before midnight on 16 June 1954 but all the docs give d.o.b. as the 17th. Dau.I and Dau.II aka Bookie and Cookie invited us up the Dublin last Sunday Lá Fhéile Caomhán . . . for Cake (and a walk). 

They asked what sort of a cake The Patriarch would prefer. I replied with aggravating faux-humility that "Oh, I don't want a whole cake, just a slice of cake would do". Dau.I announced that, whatever I had to say, she was going to have another go at perfecting her lemon and raspberry cheesecake: she is making it her signature bring-a-cake solution when required at work or after work. On Saturday, I noticed we had an egg-glut at home, and decided to make my signature 5-egg, 1.7kg fruit & nut "Christmas" cake. Dau.II, meanwhile, who has been baking novelty cakes since she was about 8 y.o. took my comment literally and constructed A Slice of orange butter-cream chocolate layer cake of Brobdingnagian size [L with teapot for scale]. So it was Cake Wars on Sunday afternoon when we came back from a walk in the Glasnevin Botanic Gardens.

In the past, I have asserted that The icing on the cake of day is for me to spend it alone on the hill, so long as there was tea-and-toast at five o'clock. But scoffing cakes with family makes a prretty good day too. But Today is the Actual Bday when I turn 72 = 2³ x 3² still have my marbles, knees still work, not homeless, life is good.