Shamrock survival story

Hey, Sena,

I always read your column with great interest as you and I have shared a lot of experiences together throughout our many years. Dates back to when you were just a kid and when I taught journalism at the high school and worked part time for your dad. Our families camped a lot together, and your mom was the one that told me that green bell peppers were a necessary ingredient when you cook ham and pinto beans.

This, however, is the first time that I have felt compelled to make a comment on one of your columns. Your demise of the shamrock made me sad in a way. Russ gave me a shamrock for my birthday while we still lived in Moab, and we moved from there in 1986. It has always lived in the same pot and has moved with us from Moab to Oklahoma, back to Park City, and now resides on the table in my kitchen here in Murray. A little water once a week is all required. If it gets dry, it lies down and is limp. Because I have a purple thumb, I have never transplanted it. Maybe its happiness is because the soil and the pot are over 35 years old.

–Marjorie Donoghue
Murray, Utah