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.

We are waiting for the baby’s arrival– he has passed his due date, but all is so well that there seems to be no rush on anyone’s part– We have watched baseball games at the Imperial Bar downtown. (My daughters are not TV owners) and at the Juneau family home place (luckily my in-laws do watch the Seahawks) afterwards Justin ran the ten miles or so to their home, while Eliza and I took a hike with the dog Annie in the rain out North Douglas.  

Yesterday the sun came out, so we hiked up Granite Creek, high above downtown and saw people we knew on every curve. Juneau is a small town that way.

We’ve had big family dinners each night.  (Last night was pork roast and homemade applesauce and Brussels sprouts.)

 When I gave birth to my two Juneau girls I had high hopes, but not much of an idea of what I was getting them into. It is such a relief to know that they turned out so well. Better than I did, actually.  Eliza has been knitting up a storm — all I can do with two sticks is stake a plant or start a fire. And JJ’s junk kitchen drawer has dividers for pens, spare keys, and scissors. (I rarely find any of those things in the first place I look. Truthfully, I have no idea where the spare car keys are. Do I even have any?) Today it is sunny again, so we are off to hike and then swim at the pool and onto a bike ride. That’s what happens when the parents-to-be  are triathletes. (I’m just kidding, sort of.  Eliza and I aren’t biking today.) Anyway, what I mean to say is that I am very happy for these days that are not a kind of calm before a storm at all, rather, we are all tapering before a big event– a little stretch and rest in preparation for a good long run.