Finny and I met this weekend for our annual adventure. This year, we returned Montana (after a previous visit to see Jellystone four years ago.) Missoula is on the western edge of the state, home to a university, mountains, rivers, a rather prolific farmers’ market, a dozen great restaurants, some of the best ice cream I’ve ever eaten, a museum that left my head spinning (more on that one later) and a great local book store — Fact or Fiction.
What to say about this annual girls’ trip that hasn’t already been said? Finny made it. We could have visited Yuma and had a great time. We have one of those friendships that reaffirms my views on the world.
{Do you ever get a bit shaky in that department? Wondering if everything from your politics to your ways of dressing are just a little nutty and off course? Well, time with Jess seems to always come just at the right moment, reminding me that if I am some sort of weird freak — no need to panic. I am in good company.}
And Missoula, oh, sweet Missoula, is also full of such “freaks.” Folks with Chaco tan lines, dirty Subarus, big, scruffy rescue mutts and gardens brimming with everything they can possibly grow and preserve before winter’s frosty return. It’s a liberal, all-loving enclave nestled in a valley with icy cold rivers perfect for an afternoon of swimming, gossiping and laughing.
A few photos for now, with many more planned for later in the week. Thank you again, Finnberg — for a sweet friendship that seems to only be getting better after more than 15 years. And thank you to Nici, for the brief time we were able to spend together. “Digs” is as fun and down to earth as Finny has always said. Plus, she has two adorable daughters who make you want to swing until you can touch the sun, scream until your lungs burst and chase chickens until your legs give out.
{Also, one daughter is named Rhubarb, Ruby for short. I LOVE THESE PEOPLE.}
~K