Now, I usually don’t post most weekends, but today is an exception. Here’s why:
Five years ago today I met Mr. Gets Me Every Time at a St. Patrick’s Day Party. The party took place at this humble-looking home in the Jamaica Plain area of Boston. It was me and him, in the kitchen, with a big old dish of shepherd’s pie.
My friend Patrick and the Mr. where in the same volunteer organization at the time. All the regional volunteers descended on Boston to celebrate the most Irish of celebrations. And, as they say, the rest is history.
Funny story, Mr. Gets Me Every Time put his phone number in my phone incorrectly the first time we met. Thank goodness for friends and roommates.
Enough with the story time. Let’s go have some green beer. Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone!