LH Feb 2026 - How It Is Ending

I am now dressed and ready to go…. nowhere.  I am relishing this day of not going door knocking, of not going to a political rally, of not calling my elected.

Feb 17th Election Season Beginneth

Last Half February consisted of a sudden dive into feverish political activity.  

Danger, Will Robinson!  Boring description of political process!

Every four years we run for our seats on the county political committee.  This is that year!  We need to get a minimum of 10 signatures and voter info (more is better) of registered voters on our petition, which is a piece of actual paper.   So twentieth century, eh?!  

This is a labor-intensive, plodding activity.  It cannot be done online. The candidate cannot fill it out for the voter.  It must be done correctly, or the signature will be invalid.  It requires either begging voters to come to your place, or going door to door asking voters to sign.  It can only be done Feb 17th - March 10th (in Pennsylvania).  

Let’s start with the fact that most people do not even answer their door any more.  Then add that most voters are unfamiliar with this part of the process, and are suspicious.  I tried one year inviting people to my place, which resulted in one signature.  The voters I already know – IF I catch them at home – are willing to sign my petition and – bonus !! – the petitions for the other people running for office.  Voters I don’t know are barely willing to take the time to sign my petition. 

Me preparing to go (gasp) outside
for door knocking. 
Pro tip - it is impossible to do this
without clipboards.

On Tuesday I girded my loins for door knocking. I knocked on 13 doors and a whopping 7 opened - that’s a very good rate.   After two hours, I had 8 signatures, a sense of gratitude that the neighbors remember me, and an earful of the main issue bothering them: those two cars parked at the crest of the hill. 

If you know someone who is in the lower echelons of your political party, you could pleasantly shock them by seeking them out and volunteering to sign their petition, without forcing them to come to your door.  If it is the year for party elections in your state, that is.

Feb 18th Ash Wednesday

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  

You are butt dust and to dust you shall return. (Our favorite Lenten joke, ha ha!)

Following my personal rule of singing whenever possible, I joined the hastily assembled choir to sing J.S. Bach’s “Jesu, Priceless Treasure” but I couldn’t sing the high notes.  I faked it, which somehow seems appropriate for 2026.

I was comforted to receive the imposition of ashes from my own pastor.  My father would be rolling in his Presbyterian grave, but I hope that instead he is enjoying heaven by eating murgh methi, basmati rice, and freshly cooked chapattis, and playing bridge with my mother sans arguing.

The pastor who gave the sermon said to listen.  I’m trying.

Feb 19th  Dental news

My dentist of 25 years retired last September.  It didn’t seem right because she is younger than me.  In reaction, I did nothing about it.  In July, I had already made my appointment for this February with the (now retired) dentist.  I kept my appointment on the 19th with the new dentist, who seems older than my previous dentist and is a man.  On my very first visit he informed me that I need major dental work.  Boo hiss.  I do not know if I want a man touching my teeth.  I called another dentist and the first appointment was late April, for mucho $$$, and that was just for the initial exam.  I am afraid to wait that long for this procedure.

HOWEVER.  The dental work is a CROWN.  I want to be able to go to No Kings Day on March 28th and say I HAVE A CROWN.  Bow before me, all ye maggaty ones.

The procedure will happen in early March with the old white man dentist whom I do not trust.  But for some reason I had no problem trusting the young white male dental hygienist who cleaned my teeth.  I can’t figure myself out.  

Feb 20th Door knocking for signatures 

In my precinct, but not my neighborhood.  Knocked on 20 doors, 5 opened.  Oof.  Five signatures, after one hour of walking, on my petition only.  I was told by several people that their spouse was napping.  First rule of politics:  Never wake a napping voter!  Not even for a precious signature. 

Seen while canvassing.
Love me a Little Free Library!

Feb 21 rally.  Above freezing!

I still need this sign.

So sick of all the entitled privileged creeps.

Feb 23 a mother’s worries

Massive snowstorm in Massachusetts, where several of our loved ones live.  And two of my (adult) children not feeling well.  Here in SWPA we also had snow.

My brother, at the end of his street

Ice and snow on a window in
Boston, Mass.

That evening was the vote in Town Council for the resolution banning any agreement with federal frozen water agencies.  I went to the meeting, prepared to speak again, but left after 40 minutes of listening to bigotry openly expressed by residents of my own town.  Late that evening, the resolution passed, 5 to 2.  

Feb 24  

I knocked on 4 doors, zero opened.  It was cold and windy.   A lot of the neighbors are probably bigots.  We are in full-blown fascism.  I realized I had forgotten my phone - this is a safety issue when one is door knocking alone.  I aborted my attempt.  I went home. 

Feb 25 More door knocking. 

Three more signatures, which is enough for my petition, but it felt like pulling teeth to get them.  It was clear these voters had no interest in signing other candidates’ petitions.  I feel demoralized that voters in my own party are not more enthusiastic to engage in the process.  I give up.

Seen while canvassing:
squirrel statue outside a door
that did not open.

Dachsund and frog statues
outside another voter's door.

Feb 26th Our local Democratic Committee fundraiser

At last, a joyous event!  Good food, good company.  It was my dream to sing one of the resistance choir songs, and we did, although not in the gorgeous harmony the Minneapolis choirs have done.  I won a raffle basket, which included a truckload of hot chocolate packets, chocolate truffles, library swag, a beautiful blanket, and a resistance hat (the Norwegian-style red hat with tassel) for the Common Household Husband.  The same knitter had already honored me by giving me one. 

The CHM and CHH,
in our matching Norwegian red resistance hats!

Feb 27th Rally - Fridays Without Fetterman

We are not amused.
This is the first time in a long time
that I have been willing to put on
a costume at a rally.

Lady Liberty is so f#&*king disappointed in our senior Senator.  He caves to the Miller-Vought regime most of the time.  There were just 20 of us at the rally, and not much traffic driving by at noon downtown, but it was uplifting to be among friends.

January to mid-Feb are supposed to be resting-up times
for the foot soldiers in the political world. 
But not when there is a town resolution to pay attention to.

This month I did 80 hours of political activity:  32 communications to electeds/university officials, 30+ communications to fellow residents on the town resolution, 8 public events, 7 meetings, 10 data activities, 4 door knockings (51 doors knocked).

We cannot fully rest, but we must take breaks.  Now that I have showered, it’s time tonight for … a Purim Party!  Bring on the hamentaschen!  Let’s drink until we can’t tell the difference between the names of Mordechai and Haman!*  Onward to next month!

Please tell me how your February went. I hope there was some relaxation in it! And some chocolate.

*Let’s not.  This is a stupid tradition.  Please don’t do it.  I certainly can’t drink alcohol like that...any more.

If you are not sick of reading, here’s the recap of FH Feb.