After spending the morning inside museums, Hubby and I were ready for some fresh air, even if that meant cold fresh air that tried to lift your skirts. (Tell me again…why do grown men wear kilts in windy Ireland? It…
Author, Writer, Book Doula
After spending the morning inside museums, Hubby and I were ready for some fresh air, even if that meant cold fresh air that tried to lift your skirts. (Tell me again…why do grown men wear kilts in windy Ireland? It…
Our introduction was polite, cultured. Florence sat on an embroidered stool, hands folded into her skirts, chin high. Her inviting smile was genuine. She was quality and royalty and she did not need to prove it. “Look into all my…