Enough ruckus for New Hampshire

It's been a few days since the New Hampshire Primary, and now we can walk around without bumping into politicians, campaign workers or reporters. And I won't miss the phone calls. I voted when the polls opened and then my phone started to ring. All those lovely, young voices were reminding me to cast my ballot and offering to tell me the location of my polling station. How nice to have those reminders.

I guess we did better than Iowa; we were able to count the votes we cast. My regular readers know that counting is not easy. Although counting cows is different from counting votes, it's still essential. Knowing where all my cows are could save a life. Knowing where all the ballots are could save a state from embarrassment.

We were able to count the votes, and on Wednesday morning, we let the nation know who we wanted to nominate. For a while, our little state was headline news. As the campaigning and voting were reported in the national news media by celebrities like Wolf Blitzer, towns like Concord and Portsmouth were described as though he lives here.

A small part of the fun even found its way to our little hilltop farm. Last week, guests from North Carolina checked into our farmhouse inn. The family of four were here to visit New Hampshire in the winter, but also to meet the presidential candidates. I don't think they met Trump, but they got to see four of the seven top Democratic candidates, and so did I. In the days before the primary, I saw Buttigieg, Tulsi, Biden, and Klobuchar.

After our North Carolina guests flew home, two campaign workers from New York City stayed with us to canvas for their candidate. I learned two facts from them: it's expensive to live in NYC and almost impossible to meet the candidates like we do here in New Hampshire.

On Primary Day, after I had fed the cows and picked up scraps for the pigs, 11-year-old Olivia and her rabbit, Stewart, drove with me to what has become the state's Primary headquarters, the Center of New Hampshire in Manchester. Olivia had dressed Stewart in horn-rimmed glasses and a white wig to support her favorite candidate.

I was disappointed not to see any candidates that day, but I did meet some journalists. I had a long conversation with conservative Republican pundit Grace Vuoto. We got along fine; we talked about health care and the economy while her children visited with Stewart. Even though we disagreed on some issues, we agreed on others and had a civil conversation. 

As farmer-in-chief of Miles Smith Farm, I've found that civility works. If a bull acts up, rather than confront him (I'd lose every time), I coax. For cattle, the universal persuader is food, and at least one candidate thought to try it on people. (Note to Tulsi: Thanks for the homemade Hawaii macadamia toffee! Next time bring more.)

The votes have been counted, the candidates and the press are gone, and the toffee is eaten. The circus has moved on to other, bigger states. New Hampshire can stand some brouhaha every four years. It's been exciting, but now we're like a family whose houseguests have gone, and we can walk around the house in our long-johns again.