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WHAT A MOMENTOUS WEEK, in America and even on remote little Center Island, where we are surprisingly well plugged in to what’s going on in the outside world.
I’ve had streaming internet for years, formerly piggybacked with CenturyLink landline phone service. Sometimes streaming was slow, occasionally inexplicably offline, with plenty of nights when my eyes crossed watching the buffering circle go round and round. But last spring we got fiber-optic broadband, thanks to a Biden Administration bill to fund broadband for rural communities. So thanks to Joe Biden I got to watch every lively minute of our current federal administration’s crash and burn on Tuesday night.
Wow, what a turnaround from two years ago.
And what a restoration of faith in democracy and the power of ordinary people, who together with the federal judiciary steamrollered every Trump effort to discourage voters from having their say.
Even in my quiet corner of the world, I found ways to feel part of it all. In October, I hand wrote and mailed 50 get-out-the-vote letters to voters in Texas, Georgia, Ohio and Michigan. In the past month I ventured twice to nearby Anacortes, first for the October 17 “Vote Now” rally, and again last Sunday for the weekly noon hour of sign waving at the busy intersection in front of Safeway. The 100 or so protesters picked up on an idea I originated: Along with hoisting a sign saying “BLUE WAVE,” looking toward Tuesday, we donned blue nitrile surgical gloves to wave our blue hands at passing motorists. We got hundreds of waves and honks in return. It was a joyful expression of hope and optimism.
Tuesday, the wave turned into a tsunami.
On Center Island, now it’s a quiet Friday. Trees are dancing in big winds, and cold rain comes and goes. Oh, yes, it’s November. I’m huddled in my writing hut, still warmed by events of the week, but with my heater on just to keep my toes toasty. Galley Cat is coming and going from out in the weather after going on alert — like a canine pointer, growls and all — when she spied a deer in the woods. A virus took most of our deer a few years ago, so seeing a deer here now is exciting. She obviously thinks so.
Oh, and I met my new neighbors. They are former sailboat liveaboards. They have a cat. They are nice people. The Mad Birder and Carol will be missed, but these new folks seem like… good neighbors.
For now, reporting from my small island that hardly anybody has heard of, all is well.
