And there can be no objection either to celebrating St Patrick (Hail Glorious etc) who seems to have been a nice enough guy, or possibly a collection of nice enough guys, from Brittany, Scotland or Wales. The whole no-snakes business is highly commendable.

But it's the timing. Forty years ago, the thighs of disillusioned majorettes were showing bright blue in O'Connell Street, but would we take the warning? Would we hell. There seemed to be a note of surprise last week when the weather forecast looked a bit chilly for this weekend, but for those of us who have seen more than four St Patrick's Days - considerably more than four, actually - it was a case of business as usual. Evoking memories of St Patrick's Day is like stepping into some meteorological nightmare.

It's all a blur of driving rain, low cloud and freezing fingers feebly clutching our national flag. For us, climate change cannot come fast enough.

The wind always seems particularly strong on St Patrick's Day, hurtling through the daffodils and blowing everything else in the garden flat. I know St Patrick's Day is meant to be a good day to prune your roses but, my God, were you brave enough to try?

What do we do on St Patrick's Day anyway? It used to be mass and the Dog Show at the RDS. The former was automatic and the latter housed the only bar allowed to sell liquor on our day of days. As a child, I saw an awful lot of dog shows - loved them, and still love Crufts - because we had a very nice grandfather who regarded it as his national duty to outwit all licensing legislation. God bless him, that thrill is now gone.

In the rest of Europe, they know how to give good festival. People make floats and put saints on them.

Or they pull hoods over their heads and pull a large cross through the streets. That's a real Day. Here, we look at the back of people's heads on the main street of our nearest town.

Last week, a Ukrainian lady expressed some polite disappointment about St Patrick's Day. "First time, very interesting, " she said. "Second time, not interesting. Third time, not interesting."

Imagine how we feel, sweetheart.

It's not that we haven't tried, what with firework displays and trendy parades. But it's still not exactly the Fourth of July, is it? It's not even Canada Day, let alone Bastille Day. We don't have St Patrick's Day food - although some of us did our best with bacon and cabbage.

In a country once renowned for its hospitality - remember that bit? - we don't have a tradition of welcoming guests into our homes on St Patrick's Day. We don't give each other presents. We don't visit the sick.

All of these things could not be done in one of Ireland's lovelier months, like May or June or September.

Surely St Patrick wants us to be happy. Would he really mind if his Day fell in early summertime?

We are a bit short of festivals and we already have a spring festival. It is called Easter. Easter is about spring and renewal. It has a Christian figure at its centre who is a couple of ranks above Saint Patrick, not to put too fine a point on it.

No one in this country would accuse our politicians of revelling at the prospect of a junket. But it might be worth pointing out that in May and June, the kids are still in school, so foreign trips are doubly enjoyable.

We don't want St Patrick's Day abolished, we just want it moved to a time when it is a little bit warmer. In an election year, is this really too much to ask?