The last day in Kalispell

I rose early, combed through the knots in my hair, decided on a warm soapy shower, everything felt right.  I marveled at the heated floors in the bathroom -- wouldn't it be nice to have these at home? It was like having a little oven for your feet. (minus the cooking part.)

I thought my day was going to be a beautiful dream. We were going to take pictures in the park. We were going to watch the ducks there. We were going to spend our American money in a thrift store. When it was all over, we were going to drive that long beautiful road home.

And then a storm brewed in...

I was carrying luggage into the car when I heard my brother yell "there's dog poop all over the carpet!" I kind of chuckled at first before realizing my brother wasn't joking. There really was dog poop all over the carpet. I lifted my boot only to discover that I was the person who stepped in it. To put it briefly, everybody was grouchy and mad at me. 

I started to cry. It was one of those cries where everything hurts. Your fingers, your teeth, even your baby toe cramps up and makes you feel hopeless.  My tears weren't even salty or soft, they were hard and bitter like an apple falling on your head. I was crying because I stepped on dog poop. It seems like fiction now, why on earth would somebody cry because of that?

I ran across the road with tears in my eyes. The waterworks made everything look like a bundle of stars. Carter ran after me and we walked together.

Then we came upon the lake (it felt more like the lake came upon us..) There was a mural with sculpted clay, hand painted sentences and little fragments of a daydream. I couldn't help but burst into laughter and think to myself how a funny thing like life lessons can be disguised in something like dog poop. 

floral vintage dress; mama stone vintage $40 | tights; teja jamilla etsy| leather lace up boots; western outdoor in Montana $110 | straw hat; spring $10