I protest.

I’ve embarked on a journey tentatively labeled, “Not Sheep.” In order to prove to myself that I would not have turned a blind eye to the atrocities of the holocaust, I am jumping into being an activist. I am hoping to use my still-functioning abilities as a good student to learn everything I can about what is going on. I hope I’ll be ready if there is anything I can do to help my country endure through this perilous test.

Today, President’s Day, started with battling back against Mother Nature’s mighty dumping of snow, covered with ice, covered with snow. My incredibly reliable snowblower broke through the hard-packed two feet of blockage at the end of my driveway. The wind was fierce. It took an hour to clear things enough to get my car out.

I needed my car to pick up the two 12×18″ protest signs I had ordered. I wanted to be in Downtown Keene at high Noon, ready to step out in my first act of protest against what is going on at the helm of our country.

Brutal temperatures and an effective wind chill of 1 degree may have dissuaded other people from attending the Presidents’ Day protest. Understandable! My flimsy signs were like kites. I got the idea of mounting them on a sandwich sign we use for our Memorial Day parade lemonade stand. Worked out perfectly. Brought along an American flag. Initially kept it clipped because of the powerful gusting wind.

I landed a perfect parking place just in case a warm-up retreat to the car was warranted. As it turned out, there were moments when the sun shone so brightly on me and my American flag that I felt illuminated. I perched myself by a snowbank that was just the right height, planted my boot up and balanced the folding sign on my knee. Clutched the flag and the sign in my left hand and steadied the sign with my right hand. The wind took me by surprise several times and nearly whipped my signage away from me… but I resisted.

Here’s what I learned: Preparation is important. Feeling proud to display my messages was key. I had gone online to learn Do’s and Don’ts of Protesting and dressed as they recommended to be somewhat unrecognizable. I did not wear any red. I didn’t want to be mistaken for someone who supports 45/47’s reckless ways. I didn’t wear blue either. I wore my favorite color, black, and my bulky, warm, white winter coat. I wore insulated hiking boots, wool socks and ski pants over my regular leggings. I had my trusty woolen mittens that had been in and out of the Grand Canyon with me. There is no bad weather if the wardrobe works. It did. I lasted the full hour with no trouble.

Whether battling Mother Nature’s ferocity or the imminent threat to the US Constitution, one has to be sensible, determined and prepared. Prevailing winds need not prevail. I’m not planning to wimp out. Join me.