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.

Blog

The Third of December

The Third of December

Have you noticed a pattern? (Hint: three in a row.) I'm trying to be my own Advent calendar. Blame it on the daily Advent devotion from Marsh Chapel at Boston University. (I started listening to the Sunday services during the pandemic and still do, except not on...

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Birth Control Debates and a Toddler in Underpants

If the men running for president were the bearers of the family children then regulating birth control and legislating reproductive rights would be about as popular a debate topic as mandatory male circumcision. Perhaps we should hand out babies (infant to 2) to each...

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Busy Morning

My daughter needed me this morning-- the one with the baby here in Haines, Sarah-- not the one about to have a baby in Sitka, Stoli. (Well, technically the baby is due March 16, but she has been sent over early because the doctors think the baby could come anytime....

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Happy Ash Wednesday?

Guess you don't say "Happy Ash Wednesday!" Do you? Still, the dawn was beautiful today, and early, the light is back and we are gaining minutes each day now. This morning in the kitchen we talked about what we are giving up for Lent. Jan, our priest, says that you are...

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Lovely Day

 I am not even going mention the foot of snow, the rain, the wind, the knee deep slush. Nope, it's bad form to complain about the weather, again. I am thankful that the roof is still on. I will say that down here at sea level, last night's slurricane has dropped the...

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Presidents Day Ramble

It is Presidents Day today, a holiday, sort of, except in Haines where we don't do national or state holidays at our school. Apparently they are optional in rural Alaska, but the radio station staff is taking the day off to honor Lincoln and Washington, and so they...

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Sunday’s Thought from Mary Oliver

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself  to your imagination, calls to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting over and over announcing your place in the family of things. -From Mary Oliver's poem, Wild Geese        

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