Monthly Archives: November 2016

Just one of those days…or weeks…or maybe a month….

Just one of those days…or weeks…or maybe a month…Jackie Wells-Fauth

For the first time in a while, I slept soundly and straight through the night last Tuesday. That may not seem like much, but for someone of my age and activity, that’s darned near a miracle. And there was a good reason for it that was not in any way connected to miracles.

It all started when I got up for a school activity on a Saturday morning. For me to get to the bus and meet the students at 7:00, I must be up and moving by around 5 a.m. This was the start of a very long few days.

After marking down the names of the students who had the foresight to stay home that early morning, I set out with the rest of the group. A long day of competing and trying to stay awake was followed by an evening of errand running before I made my sleepy way home, avoiding the various deer, skunk, possum, etc., as I went.

Sunday was my “day off,” so I celebrated by putting up two dozen pints of applesauce. Then I did about three loads of laundry. After that, I relaxed by baking and freezing some bread.

Monday, undeterred by my weekend activities, I took another group of students to competition over the afternoon and evening. I knew we were in trouble when the leaders of that competition announced, “We have a new system that will save a lot of time.” We left that competition approximately two hours later than normal and were not home until almost midnight.

After the students left, I searched for my car keys as I needed to take the half-hours’ drive home. No keys. I searched my bags, my purse and my pockets frantically. Still no success. It was almost certain I had left the keys in my room within the school…which I couldn’t access because I had also lost my key to the building.

After searching out a co-worker and pounding on her door after midnight, I was able to obtain a key to the building and then to discover my keys on the desk…one problem solved. I returned her key and headed home, reaching the house somewhere after one o’clock in the morning.

The following morning I picked up my purse, checking as I normally do for my cash and my pouch containing my credit cards and driver’s license. It was gone. I looked again. No pouch. I frantically tore through the car, my school bags and my pockets. The pouch was completely gone.

I got in the car to leave for work, still worrying about who could have my credit cards. I put the car in gear and backed up…into the garage door…which I had forgotten to open.

It was at this point that I knew that the bad day was stretching into at least a bad week and I was at the point where I was afraid to ask “What next?” because I might find out!

I poured out my troubles to my co-workers as I prepared to call my husband to cancel my credit cards because they were missing. After I was done with the phone call, my co-worker said, “You didn’t tell him about the garage door you ran into. Don’t you think you should?”

“No, not until I have secured the best divorce lawyer possible,” I answered.

“Surely he’s not going to divorce you over a wrecked garage door,” the co-worker scoffed.

“Maybe not,” I answered firmly, “but after the week I’ve been having, I’m not taking any chances!”


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November 28, 2016 · 2:06 am

Thank you, God for Election Day

I read somewhere a long time ago that someone in some foreign, unstable place would fix elections by chopping off the index fingers of unlucky voters. Why do this, you may ask? Well, it seems they marked off those who had voted by dipping the forefinger in ink. If you had no forefinger, you could not prove you didn’t already vote, so you couldn’t vote again.

I’m really hopeful this is a made-up story, but it does illustrate the complete ease with which we are allowed to cast our vote and speak our mind in this country. If we can escape all the political hype without being traumatized, we can step into a small, quickly erected, metal framed space with a red, white and blue curtain just covering our behinds and fill in the ovals for the people of our choice.

As I write this, I have indeed made my choices and cast my vote, but I don’t know who has won and you know what? I find it doesn’t matter nearly as much who won as it matters that I was allowed the chance to peacefully join my voice to millions of others.

Of course, there are any number of other reasons to be thankful for election day. One is that I can quit listening to non-stop political ads, and looking at political memes on Facebook filled with so much childish invective that I was hard-pressed to hold the line of silence and I just barely refrained from writing on posts telling me why my choices were stupid, “Oh yeah? Well, your candidate eats their own boogers, so there!”

In addition to that, I survived the polling place. Now, I have to tell you that election polling places scare me. I want a nice, quiet place to do my voting and try and puzzle out what all of those amendments are about. Instead, I have to produce identification to prove I am whom they have already written me down as, then I receive a stamped ballot and I am directed to that line of feebly erected booths.

With the curtain unable to cover my lower body, I must attempt to stand still and not wiggle as I wrestle with Amendments, Law Changes and Initiated Measures. After a few minutes of trying to figure them out, I frequently mark “No” just to get done. I can’t find the one that the politicians are bringing in just to steal my money or the one that was funded by “dark money” (whatever that is) from some super-secret spy place in the heart of the North Pole. 

As for presidential candidates, I so wished they would have had a line marked “Other”! I worked hard to fill in the proper little ovals, but I either didn’t fill it in enough, or I accidentally colored outside the lines. And the reason for this is because the people in the other little metal booths kept moving and shaking the narrow little table!

I did discover, however, that if you grab the whole metal structure and pick it up and holler, “Stop shaking the table!” they will ask you to leave. Apparently this “upsets the other voters,” and “creates an unsafe environment at the polling place.” Some people are so picky! I was done anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Now all that’s left is to sit back, thank God for the chance to vote, and wait for the election results, with both eyes shut and all my fingers crossed.

Happy election day, everyone and I sure hope that Lincoln fella wins! Four more years, Abe!


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