There is plenty of time to think about things when door knocking a rural precinct. Houses are spread out, and typically there is a long walk from the road to the dwelling. Sometimes you can’t even find where people live on a farmstead, or the family moved away.
I had a finger wave and waved back.One couple stopped to ask me what I was doing at a friend’s house. Society is palpable even if there aren’t many people around. Politics here is more about the county than the president.
One woman saw me coming from the street and said to the elderly man sitting on the front porch, “tell him you can’t hear.” Turned out I’d bought straw from this farm several years ago and we had more in common than expected. We had a good chat although I never got to speak to my target, the octogenarian mother inside. “We’re not caucusers,” one said. They dislike the party business part of the caucus and would likely vote in a primary if there were one.
Everyone has made up their mind on this walk list. I’m glad I went out. What I thought about most is how personal politics was to most of the people I met today. It’s like fresh cut firewood one person was burning in an open pit, the smell permeating my clothing and getting into my lungs. It would be a mistake to say we aren’t all connected. And that’s a hope we should share for getting through these turbulent times.