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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A Perfect Pearl

A Perfect Pearl

In yoga the other day Sarah said, “Sometimes you just have to rip the Band Aid.” Our dog Pearl died while we were away. It was a good death, as deaths go. On her own bed, at home, unassisted, no pain. People she loved were near.Most importantly a child, our grandson....

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Pretty Good Thursday

The big news from the pool at yesterday's early bird swim was frost on the windshield (scraping required before we arrived at 6:30, in the dark) and the beautiful sunrise (the sky lit up through the big windows in the corner). I swam thinking about the borough...

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Light the Night

  The forecast for tonight is for cloudy skies, and scattered rain and or snow showers. Which is why Shannon, who is organizing the annual Hospice of Haines "Light the Night" luminary remembrance walk at the Port Chilkoot Dock this year, sent out a cheerful note to...

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Tuesday’s Song

A friend sings this song in the car in the morning as she leaves home: I have something in my pocket That belongs across my face. I keep it very close to me In a most convenient place.   I bet you'll never guess it If you guessed a long, long while. So, I'll take it...

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Sunday’s Thought- a Day Late

“When it's time to die, go ahead and die, and when it's time to live, live. Don't sort-of-maybe live, but live like you're going all out, like you're not afraid.”  ― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees 'Live like you are not afraid'-- I love that line. Tracks in...

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Look to the Helpers

I won't say I'm used to bad news-- but certainly the headlines lately leave little room for optimism-- the president is off the rails,  Hollywood too, and fires and floods, mean-ness and murders in Las Vegas, injustice, misogyny, bigotry, racism,the future of the...

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Monday, Monday…

I've been whistling "Monday, Monday, la laaa, la la la laaa..." --  Because, as the poet Billy Collins says-- in his poem Monday,  " the birds are in their trees, the toast is in the toaster and the poets are at their windows "-- and this writer is at her desk by the...

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