As you know, while I was in Ireland, I took a bunch of pictures, 235, to be exact. One of those was of an Irishman in Dublin. As I was going through the pictures yesterday, I looked more closely at this man. If the black slouch hat were replaced by a red, furry one and the jacket and shirt suddenly became a red suit, and the white beard and mustache were just a tad longer and fuller, why, he might be the jolly old elf himself. So then, I started wondering–could Santa actually live in Ireland instead of the North Pole? Did I really meet that Christmas legend in disguise? Since that time, has he let his beard grow (it’d have plenty of time since October) and is he even now airing out that famous suit and making sure his reindeer are in shape? I wonder. Life abounds with mysteries! Some are right under our noses, like Santa’s beard.
Instead of leaving out cookies and milk, should it be a scone and cup of tea? The Guinness complex is in Dublin, but we can’t have Santa losing his way, so tea will have to do.
I do believe that Irishman smoked a pipe. That should have been a clue! And, he was jolly and, well, let’s just say he was not skinny. Very knowledgable, not only of Ireland but of America and probably other places around the world, as if he had flown to far-reaching geographical areas. He seemed to sort of inhabit Trinity College and I’m wondering if he could have contributed to some of the vast knowledge stored there.
Why on earth didn’t I recognize him and ask for an autograph? Just to think–oh, I hang my head in shame and blush to the roots of my silvery coif–I, a mystery writer whose job is not only to plant clues but to look for them, I do believe I overlooked all those clues as to the man’s true identity and only now, nearly 4,000 miles away from Dublin (and much farther than that from the North Pole) do I recognize that those little hints were quite obvious. I’ll stay awake on Christmas Eve and listen hard as he gives a whistle and calls to his team. He can’t hide that Irish brogue. Then I’ll know! Because, the face I saw in Dublin could have been Santa’s.
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