Things have been difficult in the newspaper office the past month. Office Manager Linda Toone fractured her wrist about a month ago and has been recuperating at home. Instead of callers being greeted by Linda on the phone, they get someone else who may not have her knowledge or skills. Everyone has been pitching in to cover the office and her usual work, but it’s just not the same. Personally, I’ve been working some extra hours on top my already long hours to cover her absence.

All this is to explain why I’ve missed writing some columns lately. It also explains why I’m letting mail pile up at home. An important-looking envelope from the U.S. Census sat unopened until last weekend when I decided I needed to catch up on bill-paying.

I opened the letter and found my address had been randomly selected to participate in a census survey called the American Community Survey or ACS. I was tempted to toss the letter, but it said if I couldn’t complete the survey online, they would send one on paper to be completed. Checking online, I found refusing to answer census questions or supplying false answers can lead to fines. Not answering the questions leads to a fine up to $100. False information carries a fine of up to $500. And, if I didn’t complete the survey, I could expect phone calls or even a follow up visit.

Later I learned that another person in the newspaper office received the same random survey so I reasoned more people in our coverage area might have been selected.

Sunday night, I sat in my recliner and began the online survey on my smart phone. The letter provided a login code of random numbers and letters. Once logged in, I was given a four digit pin number in case I had to stop in the middle or lost connection. That actually happened when I was trying to gather information to answer some of the questions.

I found this survey was much more detailed than the regular ten year census. Some were difficult to answer. For instance, not only did they ask me to check a box for my ethnicity (white, black, etc.) but they wanted to know my ancestry. Although some of my family members have sent away for those DNA tests, I have not done so. I just had to guess. One family member traced a line back to the Welsh. One of my grandmothers had a Scottish surname. Another had a British surname. Another relative’s name sounds German. So using all of this, I guessed.

Some of the questions made me pause. They asked my birthdate which we’ve been cautioned about giving out. But the census is supposed to be confidential so hopefully that’s not a problem.

There were questions about home ownership like how many rooms in my house. Do I have plumbing? How do I heat my house? Do I have electricity? There were questions about how much I paid last month for natural gas and electricity. What did I pay the last 12 months for water? How many cars do I have? Did I have homeowners’ insurance, and how much did that cost? The most puzzling is what would my house sell for? I haven’t bought or sold a house in many, many years so have no idea. I just guessed, probably much too low.

Other questions checked on my health and mobility. Was I blind? Could I see to drive? Did I have hearing problems? Did I have health insurance? Did I have to pay for health insurance? Could I navigate stairs?

Then there were questions about work. Asked how many hours I worked a week, I said 60 although it’s been considerably more than that lately with Linda unable to work. Other questions asked the name of the business and the address where I worked. What kind of business was it? I puzzled over answering a question that asked me to describe my work. The box they left simply wasn’t big enough. I could have said news reporting, bookkeeping, running and maintaining plate makers, operating a printing press, scheduling, etc. I finally opted for one word – management.

I managed to skip a lot of the survey by living alone. Early questions asked for names, ages, etc. of others living in the residence. Many of the questions then included these other residents.

Other questions asked about citizenship and what language was spoken at home. There were questions about my level of education. Obviously, it took a while to complete the survey.

Finally it was done, and I gave a sigh of relief.

Apparently I was too slow in opening that envelope and completing the ACS survey. In Monday’s mail, there was an envelope from the U.S. Census marked “second notice.”