ABSTRACT
In 2008, I wound down a psychoanalytic practice of over two decades and moved from the UK to the USA. I exchanged flocks of sheep on the South Downs for flocks of wild turkeys in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I left behind a daughter in her final year of school in Hampshire and a lifetime’s assemblage of dear friends and colleagues. My son was finishing university in Chicago. Because South Dakota was a temporary home, I did not intend to open a practice. Instead, I wanted to continue work on some pieces of speculative fiction I had begun in the UK.
