Androgyny
Visiting my aunt in her idyllic coastal community in Western Massachusetts in late summer is infinitely lovely. There's the early morning walks along country lanes lined with quintessential New England rock walls, the boat-dotted Westport River bordering the family property, where you can see approximately two hundred shades of blue reflected in a given day, falling asleep in the room upstairs watching the lights on the fishing boats as they go out at night, waking with the sun as it slices through the curtains and the feeling that you're in a sunny, salt-scented library with all of my aunt's dusty books and family heirlooms... in short, it's heaven. There's always the requisite cousin barbecue and family gathering while I'm there. My aunts like to say that I'm their favorite niece to which I like to reply, "I'm your only niece." It's endearing because they say it with a lot of pride. All of my cousins on my dad's side (the only side I ...