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.

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Snow and More Snow and Life

Snow and More Snow and Life

We had 67 inches of snow in November, and it feels like we've had that much so far in December, but truthfully, we have reached the tipping point where we are bragging about how much snow we have shoveled, and gleefully upping the ante, as in: "There must have been...

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Turkey Trotting

Maybe the  Turkey Trot should be the day after the big meal. I'm a little full this morning from the deer steaks, turkey, corn bread stuffing, green been casserole, cream curried onions, rutabagas, carrots, mashed potatoes, beet and asparagus vinagrette,  rolls,...

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Pies and Deer

 Happy Thanksgiving! A photo thanks to my darling daughters home from college and an email to my neighbor James in South Africa (crazy but true. )Maybe there will be more, if I can figure out how the camera and computer work. Stoli made the crusts, JJ  filled them up...

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The Thanksgiving Bunny

 "There's a bunch of bunny tracks in the snow," my husband said this morning, as he carried in an armload of firewood. The girls were still sleeping, and I should have been. My husband is an early riser. (About 4:30. This was closer to 6.) I hadn't had coffee yet, and...

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Gathering Together

It's not always easy gathering together for the holidays. My daughter Stoli somehow got out of Anchorage in yesterday's ice storm, and landed safely in Juneau last night. There's a light skiff of snow, and it is still falling gently in the dawn fog. Hopefully pilot...

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Circling Home

 I'm lying in bed this morning, in the dark, thinking that whoever invented flannel sheets should have won a Nobel prize for human comfort in cold climates. (Dog comfort too, my terrier Phoebe has made a nice nest by the back of my knees.) I'm listening to the morning...

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Sunday’s Thought

From Madeleine L'Engle's The Irrational Season: I find it a good discipline to believe as many as seven impossible things every morning before breakfast. How dull the world would be if we limited ourselves to the possible. The only God who seems to me to be worth...

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