An older census taker visited Saturday afternoon. I came out of the barn, covered with dust and debris. I told him I had already sent in the form with the one Constitutionally required question answered — # of people who live here. He said that’s OK. Asked my name — I said it’s already on the form in his hand, and he “confirmed” it. He was very nice (although I presume he also scoped for race and sex during his visit — dirty white female). Being a typical girl, I actually apologized for not being able to answer the Census’s unconstitutional questions, and he didn’t press, no threats or intimidation. I got the impression he was delighted to have a nice job, on a nice afternoon, meeting his neighbors. We shall see if the federal attitude gets more hostile over time. So far my three visits by census takers this year have been mild. Three — hmmm. In some ways, that’s scary.

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