Today, June 24, is St-Jean-Baptiste Day, in honour of the patron saint of Quebec (and Newfoundland). A bit like Paddy’s Day but laterally displaced and no green beer or tearful ballads about the old country. I’m celebrating by playing Irish pipes for a room full of American tourists at a Scotch whiskey tasting.
Good for you PJ - I wish I was one of those lucky American tourist. Pipes and whiskey, what a concept !
PJ, I will have to toast you tonight - enjoy! 
theres no e in Scotch whisky.
RORY
Bonne St-Jean!
It’s really a Catholicized version of the pagan summer solstice festival, typically celebrated with a bonfire, a tradition that continues here in Québec, and in the light of the fire you’re supposed to renew your vows with your loved one. No bonfire at our place tonight but I’ll fire up the charcoal grill instead and we’ll gaze into each others’ eyes over Jalapeño sausages and mashed potatoes. How romantic 
When I was growing up in Cork, June 23 was always Bonfire Night (or Bonna Night, in the local patois). Isn’t it a big day in Stone Henge also?
Rory - Right you are but I suspect that there’s very little real Scotch in what will be consumed tonight …
My mother once told me about going to stonehenge on a midsummer night sometime in the fifties. They were there with a few other friends from Oxford to wait for the dawn to watch the sun rising over the kingstone.
Which it did, eventually. There was a group of peeved-looking neo-druids in robes, chanting, and another group of over-moistened undergrads, one of whom had clambered up onto one of the sarsen stones and was drunkenly ‘conducting’ the druids with a stick of celery. The druids were Taking No Notice as only an offended middle class brit can.