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.

Coconut oil– who knew? I’m part of a yoga spring cleanse — we are eating whole foods only, and no sugar, wheat, caffeine, alcohol or dairy and doing yoga daily- I know it’s kind of like Lent, but later, but after the Easter ham and candy I’m okay with it. Anyway, one of the ingredients that we are encouraged to try is coconut oil.  So, I cooked with it last night, and then read that it’s good for your skin so put it on my face and it’s nice– so now I need a jar for my bathroom too. Next, I may try it in my hair (they say it is a great restorative conditioner.) But I can’t stand up without coffee.  (I have suggested, and it has been vetoed by my husband, that we put one of those hotel sized coffee pots in our bathroom.)  I have not gone cold turkey, but I have cut back by 2/3. One cup instead of three. Tomorrow my cup will be half de-caf, and by this weekend I may be off it entirely. Maybe. In other interesting news, at least to me– I have a pullet surprise. It’s a short story. This weekend, when daughter Eliza and her beau Justin were here, they kept hearing roosters. Eliza assured Justin that I didn’t have a rooster much less many roosters — but after she heard it,she wondered out loud if hens sometimes crow. That’s when I told them about the handsome, gentle, homeless bantam rooster and exotic fluffy white blue-headed bantam hen he was found with out on the road, and how no one claimed the fancy pair and so they moved in our coop with the four plain Jane Plymouth Rock layers. The hens liked them right away, and felt no threat, and every morning the new couple are snuggled at one end of the roosting pole and the plump old girls are on the other end. This morning, when my neighbor hopped in the car on our way to Morning Muscles at 5:45, the dawn really was cracking new snow or not– alleluia- she said, “Do you have two roosters? I swear there’s a low one and high one.” I said no, maybe he just changes his doodle-doos depending on his mood? “Are you sure?,” she asked.  I haven’t seen a little egg yet, but I assumed the pair had been abandoned because maybe they were old, and old hens don’t lay. Guess what? (You probably already have.) She is a he. The cozy pair of bantams are two fellas. They love each other dearly and are clearly mates. The Supreme Court may want to take their cue from Mother Nature. Lord knows she’s fond of surprises.