Primo and I just returned from our last lit drop session. We dropped over 600 pieces of literature today. Maybe we should have been doing that every weekend. I for sure would fit into the Thin Jeans by now.
It's 9:27. We finished the last territory and we decided it was creepy to be opening screen doors to insert the lit after dark. I wouldn't like it if someone did that to me. Complicating things was I was trying to leave the lit at back doors (actually, side doors) whenever possible because people here don't use their front doors. We don't. We use the side door because it's easier to get to the car that way. The only time we use the front door is for company who does not know us well or to check the mail.
And I now use the front door to leave in the morning because to use the back door, I have to open the kitchen door, which would let the cats in. And letting the cats upstairs at 6:44 a.m. would not make Primo, my night owl husband, happy, as he sleeps until 8:00 or later. I envy him, although I would not keep his nighttime hours. Why would you stay up until 2:00 a.m. if you weren't at gunpoint? I treasure my sleep.
SO. I had stuck the lit in this door and I heard someone in the kitchen. He opened the door.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm doing last-minute campaigning for my husband."
He looked at the lit piece.
"I think this is the guy we're voting for," he said. He called to his wife. She came over and looked.
"This is the guy," she agreed. "He called me a few weeks ago. I really liked him. I like that he'll work for this area."
I told them they were making the right decision.