I haven’t stopped moving in two years. In 2015 I hopped on a plane for New Zealand, where I lived in the back of my beloved little station wagon for the summer and skied my way through the mountains in winter. When I returned stateside late that year, I didn’t spend two weeks straight in one place. Continue reading
I said goodbye to my girl yesterday, eight years after we met in the Missoula pound. She was three years old then, and huge. Her papers listed her as a lab/husky/shepherd/pointer, which is pound-speak for “giant mutt.” I’m convinced she was part wolf. Continue reading
It began with the loss of a love, and I’m drowning in my decision to let this one go. It was followed on its heels by the loss of my faith in the underlying ultimate goodness of this country.
But it was the last one that rocked me, that leveled us all like a blast. Continue reading
Almost exactly one year after I left New Zealand, I landed back in Wanaka. I went for a hike with a long lost friend, and as the sun set over those familiar mountains across the lake, it felt like coming home.
In Montana, a three-day weekend at the start of a long awaited (long awaited) summer is the most coveted time to get outside. But not the kind of outside where you grab your sunscreen and head to a lawn chair. A long weekend here is grounds for serious adventure, western-style. Continue reading
My latest life resolution was conceived during an atypical women’s retreat that involved dance parties, whiskey, naked mid-day saunas, and three other women very dear to my heart. Continue reading