I live and write on Lingít Aaní, and gratefully acknowledge the past, present and future caretakers of this beautiful place, the Jilkaat Kwaan and Jilkoot Kwaan.

I know, I should be writing something sweet and funny, but it seems every time I head to my desk a child, grandchild, relative, neighbor, or friend shows up  or calls on the phone.  Must be the season. Today I watched the grand babies so their mom could play hockey at the fairgrounds, and Pearl and I walked across town to their new house on the hillside to work off yesterday’s turkey, mashed potatoes, rutabagas, green bean casserole, risotto, seven layer salad,  apple pie, pumpkin pie, chocolate torte, and that Vermont pudding thing Judy brought- oh and the glug Marian and John made, which might be why I can’t recall anything else I ate– we had a grand time–  and anyway, here’s a postcard  from what may be the last clear day in  a while (snow is in the forecast for the rest of the week, and next.)