It rained all yesterday afternoon. By the time I was driving home, it was pitch black from the combined end of Daylight Savings Time and dark lowering skies. Drove home through a real toad strangler. Took me an hour to get home, mainly because things were really clogged on Metairie Road and there wasn’t even a train. Stopped by Canseco’s for a bottle of Pinot Grigio, a loaf of French bread. I have noticed, since moving to Gatehouse, that if I am out and about running errands when it rains, as I near home, the rain lightens considerably. But dang it all to heck, the minute I pull into my parking spot with a trunk load of things to carry in, the heavens open and it begins pouring. Such was the case last night. But somehow, I didn’t mind last night. Got cleaned up, into my I’m A Trump Deplorable T shirt and big baggy pajama bottoms and snuggled into the rainy evening pleasantly.
Awakened at 3:30 AM this morning and knew immediately it was election day. I had this knowledge, but there was something else strong and steady and surprising. It felt like that morning in 1984 when we voted Reagan president again. That spirit of reverence, of being uplifted and as I sat on the side of my bed, I actually looked heavenward with a question that seemed soon answered and the answer has stayed with me all morning. There was peace; today a pall has lifted and is going into banishment. All through the morning, even into now, I feel it. And it’s this: it’s as though a great mighty golden cone of translucent light has opened up over all of us, from God to us and us to God. It’s as though I feel this coming through loud and clear through whatever antennae or source, or treasure lode that’s transmitting. And it’s America now speaking as a whole saying, “we’ve heard all your rhetoric; we’ve heard all your condescension; we’ve heard all the convoluted twists of truth you’ve tried to convince us with and talk down to us with. And now, today, we are speaking in this glorious feeling of repudiation against all that has been. All of this, so unbidden, makes me feel overwhelmed with gratitude to God. God bless America.
Made it to the Metairie Senior Citizens Center, my polling place at 5:40 AM. As last night, driving in the darkness on Metairie Road, and this again this morning, they have strung the white Christmas lights across the street and its beautiful. They haven’t attached the reindeer nor the angels yet, but that will come after Thanksgiving. When I first awakened, it was still pouring, but as I took my place in line in the parking lot, at least twenty ahead of me, there were just intermittent drops of rain falling. Saw my neighbor, Rachelle there and we were together in line. Saw Craig from choir, who works the voting poll every election. He escorts people into the booth and when I got in, I said, “God, Craig, it’s dark in here!” He switched on the light and I thanked him. Everyone in line was so kind and pleasant. There was a mom and dad with their two little boys ahead of me, both of the lads clad in their jammies. Superhero jammies I believe.
So, I came home, and in the spirit was having a big election morning breakfast, cooked the following. But first, a little back history. I have not had ham since the strokes. Whatever possessed to me ask the lady at Canseco’s deli counter two weeks ago if they had a low sodium ham. Why yes I do she replied, Sara Lee honey baked ham. She slices a sliver to let me taste–couldn’t pick up on any salt at all and Mon Dieu, was it delicious. Back to this morning. I had bought a dozen of Eggland’s Best JUMBO eggs Saturday. So, I beat two with a small splash of half and half, poured them into the skillet, and the eggs spread into this gorgeous puffy yellow sea. When it was almost set, laid two slices of the honey baked ham and a smattering of sharp cheddar cheese over it, folded the omelet, flipped it, and slid the most diving tasting thing ever onto my plate. Light, puffy, sweet, savory, tummy loving food.
This morning when I was alternating between my bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen and lving room, listening to the television rather than watching it, I heard a film segment of Clinton’s last speech last night. She was trying to speak measured, nobly, exalted above it all. And the exact cadence and tone and memory I heard in her voice was that of the teacher of the Charlie Brown holiday specials. Remember, it’s just that discordant horn sound saying, Blah blah,blahblahblah blah blah. That’s exactly what Clinton sounded like.