It's over! Hurray for our side!

However you voted, whatever your preferences are, you have to admit, summer and the election is finally over. I'm happy with the outcome, prefer cool weather and feel disgustingly optimistic (for me). I am enjoying the President-Elect's Change.gov web spot, where I can find out stuff about the transition and policy plans. It's something new (for me) to see a politician's promises in writing - and before he gets into office! Amazing. I am now not only a news junkie, but a policy wonk wannabe. The fact that a neighboring rural town has elected the first (known) transgender person (as they so delicately put it) as it's mayor has just been icing on the cake for me. It's as if they voted "Ed Wood" into office, and he's just as cool. It has made me rethink my attitude toward all my neighbors. There must be more than a few closet liberals around here. At the very least, they can look at the candidate's positions and not just the candidate's hair style.
Winter is settling in here with it's frozen fog and milky white skies. Most of the leaves are gone, the Canada Goose flocks have passed overhead and the crows have taken over town. They are a large, raucus and if you are small enough, a dangerous bunch. I watched them harass a gray squirrel attempting to pass over HWY 214 and the town using the telephone lines. The squirrel was almost pecked off several times as it attempted the four block high-wire act. There is a reason that its called "a murder of crows"; keep your Chihuahuas inside.
There is a small, quiet but earnest war going on in Mt. Angel between the Glockenspiel's caretakers, the Edelweiss Building's owners & operators and the local pigeons. With each attack they launch against the pigeons, the pigeons gain intelligence. The pigeons operate much like the true guerillas they are. There is a reason that they are called "feathered rats" in New York city. Now, with the installations of the automatically opening and closing doors on the Glockenspiel clock, the pigeons have learned to tell time, and have gained the patience of Buddhist monks. Their skirmishes with the fourth floor, rent-paying residents of Edelweiss are the stuff of legend. No amount of flags ("we salute 'em" they chirp) or scarecrows ("Them's good eatin'!") can deter the birds from using the random balcony as a rest area and up-scale alternative to Mt. Angel's many bell-towers and, of course, Pigeon Central, the hulking, gun-metal gray granary. As a mid-floor, rent-paying resident, I have not received any fall-out from this war, so I can afford to take a bemused attitude.