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21 avr 09 17:26 - I like my job
Since I began address canvassing last week, I've discovered that this is the most pleasant way to earn money I've ever experienced. The work is dead easy, just walking door to door and entering map spots on a hand-held computer with GPS. I'm so glad they sent me out this time of year, when the spring weather is so beautiful, the trees are all in riotous blossom in gorgeous colors, and the fragrance of many kinds of flowers fills the air. It's actually blissful to work this way, and I get the exercise I need too.
Sometimes people come to the door and I get to say hi from the Census Bureau. Most of them are pretty nice. People from other countries tend to be more distrustful of the government, I imagine with reason if they grew up under systems that lack our concept of civil society, where the government is to be feared or distrusted.
The same holds true for groups in America denied their rights: Last week I encountered a couple of elderly lesbians doing yardwork in their front yard. Their age must have been in their mid-60s or pushing 70. I said hi to one, and she gestured to the other one, presumably the dominant partner who does the talking. She greeted me by saying, "We're not going to answer any questions." When I started to explain that all their information is strictly confidential and by law can't be shared with any other agency, she spoke over me, repeating "We're not going to answer any questions" in a firm tone of voice with a "go away" smile. She is old enough to remember the days when you could get in a lot of trouble if it was known you were a lesbian couple. (cf. Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg) I smiled and said "Thank you" and kept walking.
I've been working in a neighborhood a stone's throw to the west of my own, except that the way these subdivisions are built, there is no road connecting them. So I have to drive east out my feeder road to the main thoroughfare, north a considerable way, and then southwest an even longer way on the other feeder road to my assigned area. Making the trip over 10 times as long. I'm not complaining-- because I get paid for mileage.
Today I canvassed an unusual cul-de-sac. The road formed a ring around a copse of trees in the center. It turned out to contain a small family cemetery from the 19th century. That explains why the road had been built around it like that. Not all of the gravestones were legible, but on one of them, belonging to Lucy Higgs (1842-1917) I read:
Good thing I knocked off of work early today (I can set my own hours): although the weather was beautiful around midday, about a quarter past 5 there was a sudden hailstorm, making a huge racket on the roof and windows. When it stopped A. rushed outside to collect hailstones before they melted, in the belief that they have healing powers.
Sometimes people come to the door and I get to say hi from the Census Bureau. Most of them are pretty nice. People from other countries tend to be more distrustful of the government, I imagine with reason if they grew up under systems that lack our concept of civil society, where the government is to be feared or distrusted.
The same holds true for groups in America denied their rights: Last week I encountered a couple of elderly lesbians doing yardwork in their front yard. Their age must have been in their mid-60s or pushing 70. I said hi to one, and she gestured to the other one, presumably the dominant partner who does the talking. She greeted me by saying, "We're not going to answer any questions." When I started to explain that all their information is strictly confidential and by law can't be shared with any other agency, she spoke over me, repeating "We're not going to answer any questions" in a firm tone of voice with a "go away" smile. She is old enough to remember the days when you could get in a lot of trouble if it was known you were a lesbian couple. (cf. Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg) I smiled and said "Thank you" and kept walking.
I've been working in a neighborhood a stone's throw to the west of my own, except that the way these subdivisions are built, there is no road connecting them. So I have to drive east out my feeder road to the main thoroughfare, north a considerable way, and then southwest an even longer way on the other feeder road to my assigned area. Making the trip over 10 times as long. I'm not complaining-- because I get paid for mileage.
Today I canvassed an unusual cul-de-sac. The road formed a ring around a copse of trees in the center. It turned out to contain a small family cemetery from the 19th century. That explains why the road had been built around it like that. Not all of the gravestones were legible, but on one of them, belonging to Lucy Higgs (1842-1917) I read:
Dearest sister, thou hast left us
We thy loss most deeply feel
But 'tis God who has bereft us
He can all our sorrows heal.
Good thing I knocked off of work early today (I can set my own hours): although the weather was beautiful around midday, about a quarter past 5 there was a sudden hailstorm, making a huge racket on the roof and windows. When it stopped A. rushed outside to collect hailstones before they melted, in the belief that they have healing powers.
ditzy