I was scrolling through Facebook last night before I went to bed—something I tell myself not to do and often end up doing anyway. This post, from a friend of mine who is a fabulous, run-of-the-mill, small town, midwestern-raised, dynamic, smart, sassy and all kinds of nationalities woman, was the last post I read before I went to sleep: “I’m trying to remember the first time I was told to go back to Africa. It’s happened so many times in my lifetime, that I actually can’t recall. But I do know this – the first time I heard it, I knew exactly what the speaker was saying to me and…
Dr. Marry and Me
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The luck of the Irish
This story first appeared in Inspired Home Fargo magazine July/August 2018 In May, I took a dream vacation with my husband, son and his girlfriend to Ireland. My husband is Irish, and I mean that in the literal sense, not in the “he enjoys St. Patrick’s Day, and his great-great grandparents came over from there” sense. I mean he has an Irish passport and the accent, and yes, that’s dreamy, too. But I digress. We have been together almost 17 years, but I hadn’t been to Ireland with him because his immediate family live in England. But this year, we finally found the time and good ticket prices to make…