Just a quick post to say that it is driving me to near insanity that in only 37 hours and 11 minutes I am going to walk up the front steps of the old town hall, have the nice lady with the curly grey hair check off my name with her pencil on the printout, and take my short, many-times sharpened pencil up to the stage at the front of the hall. There, the six wooden partitions, each retro-fitted with its own bare light bulb, stand tall and proud-- waiting for the town's residents to come and cast their votes. I will check the box, so excitedly, and then hand it to the policeman who will undoubtedly let Liam and Aoife help to turn the big, metal crank on the side of the box. We'll hear the ding, "Ding!" and see the number change. Maybe we'll cast among the first votes in our tiny town.
And can you believe it? It's remotely possible that in fifty-two hours or so, we'll feel with certainty that by 1-20-09 we'll have a president who can actually string together a sentence. I am feeling so hopeful, yet so anxious all at once. I have never felt so drawn into an election before.

And one of the reasons I want my own guy to win? Because little Aoife, two and half, can read his name on the signs.
"Yook!" she shouts from the backseat, as we pass one of the many signs along our road. "Oh-BAMA!!" She sounds jubliant. I hope I will be, on Wednesday, too.