multi-guess

wonderfulexchange17 Comments

I was never good at multiple choice tests.  I always complicated the matter — read too much into the question, and thought that all of the answers were wrong (even when I could see which one they wanted.)

Who knew that could get in the way of voting?

I’ve just tried to submit my vote for the US presidential election.  It’s the first time I’ve used an overseas ballot.  But how hard can it be, right?

Well… they say follow the instructions printed on the form.  And then there are none.  Do I circle the candidate?  tick? mark with an x?  or (my favourite) use a gold star?

Does the phrase ‘Dated at ________, this ____ day of _______. 20  ‘ begin with my current location? time of day?  By length of line, I shall assume address.

Now, the questions may seem trivial, but that I know that if they want a tick and I put a circle they might count if void.  I know some of you reading this will also be voting by absentee ballot.  Is it just the Connecticut form that is so awful, or is this a problem across the board?   The photo below shows the main form, exactly as it arrived.  Don’t you think it inspires confidence?

Update: It is now confirmed that this is not a ballot.  They forgot to include a ballot (though claimed otherwise, of course).  I have been instructed to write on a blank piece of paper, ‘ I cast my vote for…’ and they say they will accept it.  I suppose I will never know if they do.

writing the date and realising

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Happy Birthday, father Zebadee  (and can I have your new address sometime…)

Four friends have had birthdays so far this month, and I missed them all.  I know I usually don’t get round to sending any of the many fine cards I buy for my friends, but to commit so many sins of omission is rare.

Hmm.  Do you suppose I should take this opportunity to send the Christmas cards I got for my parents last year and the year before (6 in total, still funny, still here)?

the land of Lemsips

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This is just a quick note to say I am still alive.

Coughing and hiding under blankets, but still here.  Those of you who read Ruth’s blog will know she turned her recent illness into a book festival.  Hoping to do the same for part of today and tomorrow, though there is also great need to wade through the props that remain from the Michaelmas event and the suitcases that haven’t been unpacked.

Still, it’s not all bad.  The vestry got an unexpected night off last night, which I hope they enjoyed; and Molly was so blissfully asleep on my lap that she nearly fell off.

Now, what shall I read?  I’ve read Dave Walker’s recent My Pew: things I have seen from it, and the related What I am doing here?, a beginners guide to church (well worth a look).   I think liturgy next, then a book on transitions.  If I make it all the way to systematics, you will know I am feeling better.

kindness

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A few weeks ago, a childhood friend found me on facebook.  We were never that close through school; we didn’t consciously choose to spend time together, but through all our growing up, we were both there.  As I thought about him, I realised that every significant memory I had was of his kindness.  Small unnecessary things that raised him above the crowd.

Kindness is too often thought to be simple.  Too often used to describe actions that offer ease rather than truth.  But there is a pure form that runs deeper.   I’ve been playing with that thought for weeks, and tonight found a poem that points in the same direction, even as it draws on images that are far away.

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
Feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
What you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
How desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
you must see how this could be you,
How he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

–Naomi Shihab Nye
Words under the Words