my sister is not dead

Since it's St. Patrick's Day, I thought I should update everyone on our favorite pint-sized Irish girl with a plus-sized liver, my sister Molly. She's in Guatemala, where they celebrate El Día de Santo Patricio. Everyone wears verde, and they eat carne del misterio de vaca salada, probably cooked in a big vat of lard, because that's how they do it at the orphanage. I am also guessing that Molly is spending a lot of time kicking a soccer ball, and watching She's the Man with her young charges.

The reason i am giving this update is to reassure people who read the tragic story of a different Molly Keane, a woman from Berkeley who drowned last month trying to save her dog. It was a very sad story, and my condolences go out to the other Keane family. The story has reverberated with people in the Bay Area, and it has spread far enough that people at our church have been asked to pray for Molly Keane.

Since our Molly has been out of the country for months, this has understandably worried a lot of people. My parents pretty much only attend church for weddings and baptisms, so parishioners can't get in-person confirmation of my sister's aliveness. And, since they rarely answer the phone at home, no one can get telephonic confirmation either. Perhaps we need to ask the priest to clarify that they're praying for Molly Keane, but not that Molly Keane. Or hell, pray for both. Molly seems to be OK, but you really never know when she'll accidentally flood the orphanage bathroom, or misplace her softball socks.

In the interest of full clarification, I will note that the Keane family now has a dog again, a shitzu/lhasa aphso mix named Snickerdoodle. She's seven weeks old, and I'm sure she and Molly will get along famously.