August starts with being whisked off to Montana for familial duties and recreation.
Like many places, Montana is as complicated as it is beautiful. I never really got used to be stared at—not too many non-binary, purple-haired, tattooed humans around. In fact, I didn’t see an alternative folks until I went to the Western Montana Fair. Lots of fun goths and punks at the fair, though.
I consumed so many huckleberries and huckleberry things that it is a wonder I didn’t turn into one, a la Violet Beauregard.
It was good to get some quality time in with the family, but every time I leave California, I feel her pull like a phantom limb. I love her more than I can even communicate. I was always meant to be here. Everywhere else is just… not quite the same, doesn’t fit quite right. Like the wrong size sweater.
A Place For Everything. 