makeitmissoulabloggers

By SUZANNE MILLER Being smitten with horses is akin to being plagued with a disease – a disease of obsession. You can’t escape the pull horses have on your heart, body, and soul. They possess you. No amount of effort or pain or cost will keep you away...

By ERIN TURNER Some of you asked me to share about my family’s “homesteading” activities.  It’s a deviation from couponing but it does dovetail with our frugal lifestyle.  And since I’m intensely focused these days on planting our gardens, hatching poultry, and sloppin’ pigs, it seems an appropriate blog this week...

By RYAN NEWHOUSE Back for its second year, Sunday Streets Missoula will kindly take over N. Higgins Avenue this Sunday (June 5) from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. and open it to people-powered, family-friendly activities. Launched last September, Sunday Streets Missoula quickly garnered a lot of attention, and a lot of participation...

By DANIELLE LATTUGA Smoke was walking a slow circle around me and my eyes were half-closed while a pocket of sun warmed my face. SuzAnne was riding Lonza—asking her to gait, go backwards and walk the plank (a raised platform that’s been sitting in the middle of the arena lately)...

By EVA DUNN-FROEBIG, Executive Director of Run Wild Missoula We hope our kids will find something in the world that they are passionate about, but when we can share that “thing” with them it’s like winning an Olympic medal. That’s how I felt after running the YMCA Riverbank 1-mile run with my 5-year-old son this Saturday...

By ERIN TURNER It’s 4:30pm, what are you having for dinner?  If you have no clue, then you could benefit from menu planning.  My house is busy and full of activity from 3-6pm. Trying to come up with dinner ideas and prepping for it during these hours only creates more chaos and stress...

By DANIELLE LATTUGA Smoke and I are often less than poetry on six feet. We’re more like a blob of bubble gum stuck to someone’s shoe. Sometimes the poetry comes later, when my body is not beat down, and that horse is not stubbornly pushing his hot breath into my face...

By SUZANNE MILLER Beginnings do not always foretell the story. Power came into my life during a period of sadness, confusion, and stress. I had no business buying a horse. My father was dying. My mother was in a rehabilitation center with a broken pelvis. I was in the middle of a large consulting contract that required me to travel between Montana, Colorado, and Alaska.

By BILL CARAS So, it snowed in April. No big deal for plants and gardens.

By DANIELLE LATTUGA Smoke and I are riding in an open valley. The two of us move in unison, and gracefully navigate all obstacles.  We float over fallen logs; glide fluidly in an elegant sidestep along a meandering stream; throw in the occasional pirouette just for the heck of it; and canter with a style that rivals giraffes running in a blooming desert. We are backlit by the glow of a sun low on