Night time creepout at Ireland Park.

Not as scary in the day…

The white marks in the rock that came all the way from Ireland are oyster shells. Pretty & neat, saw the heart, thought of Mum sailing the seas. In the night the statue had loonies and quarters but the next day, the money was all gone. I would have never taken it. Bad karma.

Here’s the story: Ireland Park honours the Irish immigrants  who fled during the amine of 1847. 38,000 of them arrived here that summer,  at that time our city had about 20,000 living here. Wow, my blog is so educational!

Saw this pretty thing too and thought it was a lucky day. Little did I know JUST how lucky it would be…

Hung out with Keri and caught up on recent happenings. Love her. Shoutout to Team Boston from us both!!

Caught up with Raymi later and she is letting me use her old bike! Yahoooooooooo. Check out this PYT I’ll be riding ’round town.

Thanks RAYMI!! ILU.

I’m so freaking happy to be riding again. I felt so FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE cruising home. Ahhh, the wind in my hair, the open road.  I’m home again. Remember how much I rode my old bike last summer? Stoked to take her out for a ride tomorrow AM. I think we look really good together, you could say I’m now in a relationship ♥.