When I woke up this morning, my first thought was I get to vote. I never miss voting even for local elections. I voted when I was in the Peace Corps, but I got my ballot too late for it to count. It was sent by regular mail which took several weeks to arrive. They could have used air mail but they didn’t. I sent my ballot back with a note explaining where Ghana was and why I was irritated. I never got an answer.

I voted for the very first time in 1968. I voted for Hubert Humphrey, not Richard Nixon. In 1972 I voted for George McGovern, not Richard Nixon. I always add the not Richard Nixon because it is a point of personal pride. As a joke, my sister gave me a Nixon button, a huge one. It says Nixon’s the One on the top and Vote Nixon on the bottom. His face is in the middle with a giant smile that looks a bit sleazy to me, but that may be hindsight. I’ve heard people say have nothing in your house for which you would be ashamed should you die unexpectedly. That would be my Nixon button. It is horrifying to think someone might believe I wore it and even worse that I voted for him.

Today is a sunny day filled with light without heat. I’m getting tired of the cold. I’d be happy with one really warm day, a long sleeve shirt day. That’d hold me until spring.

Birds are all over my feeders. They wait in lines like planes do before they can taxi and take off. I forgot the suet so I’ll fill those feeders later.

I remember watching Chet and David on the black and white TV when they covered the presidential election of 1960, a nail biter, and exciting sit on the edge of your seat election. Everything pertaining to states and numbers was done by hand. People erased tallies and entered new tallies. Calling a state for one candidate or the other didn’t happen with only 16% of the vote counted the way it is now. Back then you had to be patient. I think that’s a good thing. In the Nixon-Kennedy election Nixon didn’t concede until November 9th, the day after the election.