The Chickenhawk Ate the Kittens

Just finished inputting data a while ago, and Julie and I drove all over Iowa farmland today chasing ballots. More on that tomorrow. We didn't get back to the office until well after dark, about 8:45 pm. So, I'm having trouble putting a coherent story together and tomorrow we have three packets to "walk" (translation: drive!).

I have to write about one of our encounters. We missed a farm house by about half a mile and a neighbor sent us back to Pearl's house. Middle. Of. Nowhere! We were outside waiting for someone to come to the door and met several of the great grandkids and a number of cats and kittens. Her great-grandson, about seven, told us that the cats don't have names, they just call them all kitty. They come and go, but some of them disappear, especially the kittens. Meanwhile, a really old guy (husband?) was high up on a ladder looking down into the contraption that had grain shooting from  one great big metal thingie to another (technical jargon, sorry).

Pearl came to the door, and was really glad to see us because she had a ballot question. She invited us to come in and sit at her kitchen table. She showed us that when she opened her ballot with her knife she cut the ballot in half, and wasn't sure what to do about it. Having been in the auditor's (Illinoisans read: county clerk) office an hour before and gotten the auditor's personal cell phone number because Julie and I are that awesome, we called her to find out what to do. Left a voicemail, and then chatted a while with Pearl.

While I was leaving the message for Brooke (the auditor) Julie saw Pearl at the window eagle-eying her great-grandkids - I saw you at the well! Get away from there, how many times do I have to tell you. . .

Then she was telling us how much the kids love the cats, and are so sad when they disappear. Her neighbors keep "gobs" of cats, and never have a problem. One of her grandsons saw an owl near their property, and is inclined to blame the mysterious cat disappearances on it, but Pearl thinks it's more likely a chicken hawk.

So totally on top of her game. Maybe it's not all old Iowans, only the liberal ones? But we are so impressed with so many of the people we're meeting.

And, an hour or so later when we were door-knocking in the town of Mapleton (pop: nearly 2000!) Brooke called me back and told me what Pearl's options were with regard to her spoiled ballot. I called Pearl, and she's going to bring it with her to her polling place and vote in person on election day.

Just another day on the mission to re-elect the President. You can all thank us later!