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 am doing something wrong and unethical and maybe illegal– but totally by accident, I might add. While Chip and his mom watch the Notre Dame game (his cousin taught there, so they are our team today), I am in the dining room, all set up to keep my New Year’s resolution of writing at least 2 hours every day and finishing this latest book, even on vacation. A little box just popped up on my computer asking me if I wanted to join a wireless network. Grandma Joanne is not online, at all. I know that. But I said yes, and there was no password, and the signal is dim, and I promise I won’t steal it again,  or even peak at Facebook– but I figured I’d let you know that if you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, this is why. We are in Ocala with Grandma Joanne and the only connection to the outside is the neighbor’s leaky internet and I think it’s wrong to pinch it.  I do have my iPhone, and can read email on it, so if you need to reach me I can text you an answer.