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.   My thoughts were infected by the town council meeting. 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.

February 2026: How It Started

I am sitting here in my pajamas at 11 AM on the last day of this month, having nothing in my head.  But I do have photos on my device!  

Herewith, the first half of our February.

Feb 5th: Following several ultrasounds and a consultation, the doctor told me I need to have some unwanted uterine stuff removed, for diagnosis.  That will happen in May.   (No photo.  Sorry, but you are not sorry!)  The doctor said usually this material is non-cancerous, but they can develop into cancer so it’s important to get it looked at soon. 

PSA:  Do not neglect your visits to the gynecologist, ladies!

Conversation, on the trip home from one of the pelvic ultrasounds:

Me:  Thanks for taking me to get my lady-parts scanned. 

Common Household Husband: I’m going to tell the folks at the casino what I did today. “I had to take my wife to the hospital to get her lady-parts scanned.”

Me:  You tell them this:  “I took my wife to get her lady-parts scanned.  It’s amazing – for women, it’s all a bunch of bags in there!  They don’t have any sticky-outy parts.”

That description is based on what I saw on my ultrasound image.

Feb 7th: Assiduous readers of this blog have already seen this photo, but I must repeat it to emphasize How Much Damn Snow We Got.

Feb 7: Carveout for the mailbox.

I spent most of the month attempting to abolish ice, in one format or another.

This was how I spent my Superbowl Sunday.

Feb 7th, conversation at breakfast

Me:  The month of January this year lasted 4,587 days.

Common Household Husband: Sounds like the number of years.  5,487.  

Me: ??  I was talking about the number of days in January.

CHH: I’m talking about the Hebrew calendar.  Isn’t this the year 5487 or something? 

[We check.  It’s 5786, if you count from Genesis 1.]

CHH:  What do you think people were doing in this neck of the woods, 5,786 years ago?

Me: They were happily shored up in their protective lean-tos.

CHH:  Do you think they had a societal structure?  Were they preparing to hold elections?

Me: Yes, and they probably had some way of picking their leaders.

CHH:   Maybe it was a death battle.

Me: You mean, like in that movie?  Wakanda?  The reason we have elections is to avoid a death battle.  

CHH:  We’re past that now.

Me (moving on to the important task at hand):  What is there for breakfast this morning?  

There are two servings of peaches left.  Once we are out of peaches, we use raisins, which signals approaching fascism.

CHH: There are sardines in the closet.

Me:  We are not at the sardines part of fascism yet.

Feb 9th:  I made a little speech in public at the Town Council meeting, to say I want no official collaboration of our police with federal frozen water.  In January and February I worked very hard behind the scenes to help other residents also speak publicly at this meeting.

The meeting went on for about 3 1/2 hours; I left before the end.  There were 29 residents speaking in favor of the resolution (to not sign a 287g agreement with federal agencies) and 13 speaking against.  I am pleased to say that on Feb 23rd the resolution was approved, along party lines.  This was only possible because of the election victories we had in November 2025.

Feb 10th:  We woke up to a temperature in the house of 60 degrees.  That was one day after the outside temp went above freezing and then again down below freezing overnight.  

Diagnosis by Mr. Furnace Man: Ice in that intake pipe.

The fix: He knocked the ice out of the pipe.

Cost: more than $100 but now we know.

That day, the outside temperature went above freezing for the first time in four weeks.  God bless all y'all in Canada and points north.  I am not made for this prolonged cold.

That evening, the closet door fell off.  The CHH fixed it.

The secrets that pipe holds!

Feb 11th was the glorious day I got my car gloriously washed.

I have about 10 more photos from inside the car wash.
That is how thrilled I was to do this.  Also,
the car wash has a certain level of
fascinating horror to me.

Feb 13th: The best Valentine's Day gift ever.  A collection to warm my heart, hands, soul, and sidewalks.  The Common Household Husband said that was the last jug of sidewalk salt in the store.

P.S. That plant is not dead. Yet.

The ever-astute readers of this blog will already know that we went to Cleveland, Ohio, mid-month.  A daring move, knowing what the weather can dish out to that lake-side city.  We lucked out -- it was sunny.

Shout out to one of my favorite authors!  There is a church named after her in Cleveland.  She has a new book, recently published!  I would tell you about it but I haven't had a chance to read it yet.  

The Church of St. Mel! !
Posted here in honor of one of my
favorite authors, Melissa Westemeier

We took a little side trip to Oberlin, Ohio, to the Allen Memorial Art Museum, on the grounds of the college.  Highly recommend.  And look, the snow has mostly melted!

I hope to say more about this in
a future blog post because art is necessary
in these times.  We shall see if that post materializes.

Well, folks, that's my recap of the first half of this hapless month.  It's noon-thirty and time to get out of the pajamas and start the day.

My recap of the last half of Feb 2026 is here.

Noticed that Nature Brought Ice This Week

No book club in person.  :-(

This post is my version of the Finding Joy in Gratitude effort.

Sunday Feb 16th: Today nature caused book club to move from in person to zoom.  The day started with relative warmth (around 40F) and rain, then the temperature dropped.  Slush, then snow.  There is probably ice out there but I am not going out until tomorrow to check.  And it’s going to be blasted cold for the next week.  Soooo grateful for heat and light.  And while a discussion on zoom is suboptimal, I was very grateful for the zoom option.  But my first attempt at a charcuterie board was cut off at the knees.

Monday, so-called Presidents’ Day:  The driveway was a sheet of ice; ice is part of nature.  I did not fall down, which is a miracle.   The reason that the icy driveway was important was because we were expecting the delivery of our new clothes washer, the old having served us well before going caput.  A new appliance is not part of nature, but not having to go to a creek in 16F weather to wash the clothes makes one grateful for the chance to avoid that interaction with nature.  Appliance installed; backlog of laundry being washed.

There was a rally in town, but I did not go.

Tuesday: I was confronted again by ice.  Our front walkway up to the mailbox has some pretty nasty icy patches.  We have run out of sidewalk salt.  The good thing about this bitter cold weather is, as the weather app tells me:  “Risk of mosquito activity is low.”

Wednesday:  nature?  What is nature?

Thursday: I walked for 1.5 miles on the treadmill to try to reduce my anger and anxiety.  I am counting pumping blood and moving muscles as part of nature.  Because it is.

Friday:  I will have to shovel the front walk - there is about one inch of snow on there.  I forgot to buy sidewalk salt when I was at the grocery store. 

Door-knocking partner cropped out for privacy reasons.
Look, there is a Tardis behind us.
Maybe we could go to a different time-frame.

Saturday: The temperature was above freezing as we went door knocking to try to find a candidate for town council.  Nobody volunteered to run.

Smoky the Bear exhorts us to resist.
Yeah, we're trying.

Sunday:  Temps slightly above freezing during the Demonstration for Democracy in town.  But still cold enough that when I was holding the camera to livestream (for our grassroots groups), I needed my gloves on.  I had forgotten my hat, but I was grateful that it was just warm enough that my ears did not get cold.  (several photos of this event at the end of this post)

Monday: The snow is melting.  It’s way above freezing today.  The walk out to the mailbox (to mail an item related to my aunt’s estate) was for once not a frigid and unpleasant expedition.

Aaand then I lost track of writing it all down.  But I got through the last week of February.  And for that I am thankful.

Demonstration for Democracy on Feb 23, 2025

Avalanche Manor

A cautionary tale of engineering gone wrong

You thought these were for Mardi Gras, but they are also for Purim.

Purim is the Jewish holiday that comes with costumes, alcohol, revelry, and something called “shalach manot” bags (pronounced Sha-LAKH mah-NOTE  BAGS), which are filled with fun gifts such as hamentaschen, chocolate, potato chips, oranges, and Mardi Gras beads.   

A plethora of hamentaschen, for the Shalach Manot bags

Shalach Manot bags, all ready to be given away!

“Shalach manot bags” is a phrase which, when texted to the Common Household Husband, gets auto-corrected to “avalanche manor bags”.

It turns out we live in Avalanche Manor. 

Outside, on Erev Purim, it got warm enough to cause a dripfest, from melting snow and ice and dripping directly from the sky.  Inside, on Erev Purim, the dripfest partied all the way into our basement.  The Common Household Husband was out, of course. 

 

This was just the beginning of the flood.  It got more impressive.

I did some quick investigating, and concluded that the water must be coming from melting ice dripping from the deck directly into the house via the doorway.   I supposed that there was a crack between the deck and the house.  Solution: shovel the deck, at least the part right next to the house.  Younger Daughter’s job was to take the photos.  (I had a feeling our efforts should be documented.)

 

The Common Household Mom, fighting
against nature.

Shoveling the deck turned out to be not so simple.  There was a layer of impenetrable ice under the snow.  I fetched the Shovel for Hacking at Hard Things.  Alas, the ice was unhackable.

 

The shovel for really tough jobs.

YD and I put our thinking caps on, and decided to try to channel the water away from the supposed crack.  YD fetched some plastic bins and an aluminum roasting pan.  

YD setting up bins and roasting pans.

There was so much water dripping from the gutter above us that the bins were already full by the time we got the whole thing set up.  It became evident that we needed to put something underneath the bins to tilt them away from the house. 

The Army Guys bin

I said, “Wouldn’t it be fun if we could use the Army Guy toys to do this job?!” YD agreed.  It would be like the National Guard coming to our rescue!

I fetched the Army Guys bin.  Much to my surprise when I opened the Army Guys bin I saw this:

 

Is there a scene in Toy Story in which the Army Guys
get routed by the Polly Pockets and Barbies? That seems
to be what happened here.

Okay, then, Polly Pockets to the rescue!  We randomly pulled out a few pink unicorns and tiny dolls in plastic clothes, and stuck them under the bins.  I am sincerely sorry that we do not have a photo of the Polly Pockets, midriffs bared, heroically holding up the bins.

That really did not do the trick.  Aha!  We’ll use a tried and true Boy Scout solution:  the tarp!  I plunged out into the dripfest again, moved all the bins and Polly Pockets, put the tarp over the crack between the deck and the house, and put the bins back into place.  Just in case the tarp didn’t fully work.  

Tarp, bins, Polly Pockets (underneath the bins) -
the whole Megillah!

Then the temperature started to drop to below freezing again.  I started having second thoughts about our engineering marvel, thinking that it would all freeze and be stuck like that for weeks. 

Just then, the Common Household Husband arrived home.  He examined the situation in the basement.  He said, “That insulation up there is wet.  Let’s push it back so that it is not right above the basement door.”  We did that, and within three minutes the basement flooding stopped.  He went onto the deck, said a few choice words about our clever set up, and removed the whole thing before it got frozen.

It never occurred to me to feel the
insulation (ick) to see if it was wet.

And that’s what we did on Purim.  The weather was so awful that all Purim festivities at our synagogue were cancelled.

  

You are saying, “That was a mini-flood, not an avalanche.”  Well, yes, but we have several other water-related issues in our house, so it feels like an avalanche.  I might tell you more about those issues later, but right now it’s time to make a pie.  Tomorrow is 3.14.15!