So, I felt kind of bad. The Saturday before the Iowa caucuses, a vehicle pulled into the driveway and two young women got out carrying paperwork and iPads. I was in the middle of eating lunch and watched them through the front glass door as they slowly walked toward the house then up the steps. I was highly annoyed and pushed myself away from the table, hurried to the door, opened it slightly and slid out.

I crossed my arms as we exchanged pleasantries and one of the gals asked if I liked the world we lived in or if I believed in a better place. I really didn’t have time to hear the whole spiel, so I interrupted and asked which political candidate they were representing. I had already been visited by a lady for Mayor Pete, another for Elizabeth Warren and a young red-head who showed up after dark to talk about Bernie. I was a little concerned about that one being out alone so late. She did seem tough, though.

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