A Real Pennsylvania Goodbye

Here's an excerpt:

On New Year’s Eve, I snuggled into my hewn log chair by the wood stove for a Pennsylvania goodbye to 2020. Imagining the year sitting in the chair across from me, I began with the term I’d learned from Carol, the newest township auditor.

The three elected auditors had gathered on my porch two months earlier. That balmy afternoon, we struggled, yet again, with the township finances. The quitting secretary-treasurers had recorded ledger nightmares. Two hours into that auditing session, Carol said, “I have to go. I need to cook for my church’s potluck tonight.”

She didn’t go.

She didn’t even pack her notebook, calculator, and markers.

She slammed her fist on the arm of the Adirondack chair. “The secretaries treated us with disrespect. They didn’t trust us with the books. They forced us to work beside smelly old machines in the dusty township building. I’m mad.”

She packed, stood, and never stopped talking. The fourth time she mentioned she had to leave, she paused on the top porch step and giggled. “Have you ever heard of a Pennsylvania goodbye?”