In two weeks, Doug and I will mark our tenth wedding anniversary. It was a great wedding--outside, in the park. Then a party in our back yard, under a tent. Toby and Boscoe were there.
(Riley wasn't yet a gleam in his MamaDog's eye.)
You would not believe the wedding cakes. Oh my. We had one of each. (Well, almost. We had six cakes, I think.) (Those of you who live here in the Cities probably recognize the work of Cafe Latte.)
For a honeymoon, we rented a cabin up North and went hiking.
So now we're on the cusp of ten. Which anniversary is this, anyway--paper? Gold? What loot should I expect?
We talked a lot about how we should celebrate ten years. A trip seemed to be in order. Should we go back to Ireland? That's an appealing idea for a lot of reasons. We've been there a couple of times, but there's still lots that we haven't seen or done. I am determined to take that 1916 Revolutionary Walking Tour that starts over by Grafton Street, for one. And I want to get to Tory Island, for another.
Here we are in Galway.
Or we could go back to Paris. We loved Paris, but we were only there for five days. You can't see Paris in five days. You can't see Paris in five months. Definitely worth a return trip.
We also talked about Spain, the south of France, Scotland, Montreal. And then there's always Up North, but we were just there in May.
But a few weeks ago, we made a decision. Accommodations are booked. We are set to leave on Sept. 27, the day after our anniversary.
Where do you think we'll be going?
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