November 1st, 2004


Theft on a quiet afternoon, or angels in training?

Still here, and have to comment.

Rolanni was out this morning, so it was my turn after lunch. Had lunch hot for her when she walked in the door, since the wind is up and the clouds thickening. We had a quiet lunch of leftover tortellini in a home-bashed sauce with lots of diced tomato in it, (and re-hydrated chips of carrot, onion, parsley, celery, and garlic)... and some good whole wheat bread from out own kitchen.

Then I checked into the vote-prediction site... where I found that if they're too slow (like overloaded by users or by another DoS attack) that I should try to add digits (like 3,4,or 5) to end of "vote" to see what's what. Did see, and things look pretty close.

Then I took the LCD monitor to UPS to be shipped back so Northgate can replace it. Stopped at the PO. Bought $56 or so worth of stamps to have around -- including some nifty clouds -- and went to the bank, too, where I took less money out in cash than I put in via mail order checks, which is useful, especially with the printing of "With Stars Underfoot" looming. Changed some of the money to Canadian since we like to have some of that currency about -- we very often stray across the border, you see -- , and see that the US dollar is loosing strength big-time against the $Canadian. Still not at par or anything, but not nearly as good an exchange rate as three or four years ago. Ayuh, that's how it goes, though. Money's tight in Maine and we watch things like the exchange rates and the price of lumber and potatoes and gas and such.

Well, decided not to get gas after all -- the local stations range between $1.96 and $2.07 and I was on the high price end of town before I remembered... so in the morning we get gas after voting. I drove home engrossed in thought, listening to a rock station where the DJ kept reminding people to vote, and to buy Pepsi and watch cable, mind enough on the road to see it, but not enough to pay attention to all the details... still something niggled at me as I parked.

Got inside, shared news, cheered Doug Smith's winning of the Aurora award for "Scream Angel" ... a powerful story we bought for Low Port ... and then went for a walk, with the intent on checking that something niggling I thought I'd seen when turning into our road, just before parking.

Yep, been robbed. Three of the four signs I'd put on "big-road" side of the property (we have frontage on two roads) are still there. Those are the local political signs -- town stuff, mostly people you never heard of and never will. Good people, working for their community.

The fourth sign -- that was the single national election sign I'd put up on that edge of the road -- is gone. No sign of it. Not blown across the street, or in the ditch as far as I can see, not semi-smashed and half-squashed as a lot of them in this neck of the woods are (Maine winds are a fisty-force sometimes!) -- just gone. Stolen I figured...

The thing is that I don't usually put up political signs, but this year I thought I might. Sometimes I need help recalling who I'm going to vote for, after all, so I figured having a sign or two around would help me. Thought it might help some other folks, too.

Anyhow, I was walking back from that road, (at a sad, slow gait, no doubt, feeling bad about my fellow man) when I had a revelation of sorts. Like proper revelation it came in a flash of bright yellow light when the gray clouds scooted aside for a moment (you've heard about Maine's special revelation light, right?) and the trees around me lit up like an angel had flitted by.

That, of course, was the case.

I really shouldn't have been thinking of an irrational conspiracy of political numb-nuts, or that someone had encouraged their kids to yank presidential election signs on Halloween. No, I should have realized from the start that the cause of the the missing and battered signs was other-worldly in nature, and not a cardboard-hungry moose-prank.

You see, it came to me that Maine is where guardian-angels-in-training come, and that the road sides are where they need to travel while practicing the special angelic skills of driver-shadowing. Rational, and in keeping with the new faith-based initiatives, too.

So, if you see an angel with a Kerry-Edwards sign wrapped around his ankle, or flattened across it's nose, or flapping from her bosom, say hello.

And, if you get a chance, mention that I'd never realized that losing something, or nearly losing it, was a good way to remember it. Right! Even without that sign, I remember who I've decided to vote for. And why.

Catch you this weekend.

Oh yeah...
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