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I voted weeks ago so all the hysteria and sales pitches, flyers, and tv ads have been  falling on infertile ears. Two days ago, I started blocking my messages and unsubscribing from emails; when I go online to The New York Times or the Washington Post, I click right away on the International section. What a shame those people are spending millions of dollars on me and I’ve already voted.

Some people I know have been door knocking over these last few days. I did that once, in Jersey City and Bayonne, cities I knew nothing about. I learned a lot; for example homes that were protected by scary fences, alarms, and locks opened up into beautiful interiors created by the owner, a carpenter, or round the side was a lovely garden. I learned about people’s grandfathers, how they’d lived here for generations. I talked about voting to down-and-out fellow citizens sitting on park benches —it was the first time anyone had done that, they said. The homeless and the down-and-out ought to have their say, too. I walked onto a porch and reached over to push the doorbell without looking downward. A few inches leeward of my foot the flooring of the porch had been removed. I could’ve stepped right into it. Was any election worth dying for?

Door knocking at election time is an excellent way to get to know some of your fellow citizens whom you would never meet otherwise. Just watch your step.

It’s a windy, sunny day here in Vermont. I’ll take the dog for a walk and avoid the news until Wednesday…there’s nothing more I can do.

Blessings on all of our heads.