Plastic Paddies

My Irish roots are tenuous, there's mention of great grand parents from Enniskillen somewhere along the way and the Purcells were a bit notorious in Co. Down before they took to god and became born again swindlers.  My children are however half Irish and one of them is in Ulster, 2,000 km away from me.  
I fancied a Black velvet but there wasn't a can of Guinness to be found in the supermarkets here (and I can't even blame Brexit  because it comes from Dublin, no?  real Liffey water?).  
Cafés have been closed since october and some of them stock the black stuff, so I went searching.  
A patronne arranged to leave me  a few cans tucked away in a barn near the lake.  
I took the opportunity to walk Bernie and the girls.  The sun pierced the clouds for a couple of minutes and fooled us into believing in its warmth.  The girls dived into the lake and felt the cold, so i bought a bottle of whiskey on the way home and made them take hot showers.
Post script 1: Black velvet is a waste of time.  Never mix two good drinks to make one bad one.
Post script 2: Carrickfergus ain't a good song to mix whiskey with when you're missing someone you love.