just FOCUS, please

Y'know those competition cooking shows where they throw together a tag team of people who don't work well together?  And the one actually working is just trying their best to muddle along?  While the other is screaming half formed instructions because they know exactly how to do the thing but really really suck at articulating it?  And everything ends up messy and all over the place because the person on the sidelines can't explain multitasking and the person cooking can't think about what they need to do while their partner is shrieking partial sentences and demands at them?

My brain is the one frustrated and yelling from the sidelines today.  And I'm the one frozen and scattered because I can't do ALL OF THE THINGS AT ONCE.

This is Not a Political Post

This is not about candidates or issues.  It's not about changing your mind or swaying your opinion, as the time for that has well and truly come and gone.  This IS a post about storytelling, spirituality, and fear.

My mother was a poll worker for many years.  She did it because it was interesting work, because she genuinely enjoyed talking to all of the different people, and frankly, because we could always use the extra cash.  She would come home tired--they were very long days--but content, and with a fair amount of folksy news and amusing stories to tell.  And even in controversial election years it seemed to be a genuinely enjoyable experience.

That is not this year.

As we have all watched the increasing ugliness, unrest and aggression, I have said that you could not pay me to go near a polling place on election day this year (and as a matter of fact I made a point to cast my vote by absentee ballot a couple of weeks ago).  But over the past week or so it has really hit home what I am saying by my refusal to vote in person.

I have been thinking more and more of the various firehouses, churches, and schools where my mother has worked and where we have cast our ballots.  Thinking about all of the decent people she has worked with, that like her, volunteered to do a job out of patriotism, interest, or need.  These places, these people, will take the brunt of whatever happens today.

And I......I don't have a good feeling about it.  I'm worried, not about the election outcome right now, but the more immediate concern about all of these raised tensions, clashing beliefs, and the powder-keg potential for violence.

I've darkly joked about treating today as though it were some horrible cross between the day after Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve, with all the angst and cons of both days.  I've talked about holing up at home with tea and a couch full of snuggly blankets, watching the fallout through the cold glow of the internet.  But I know many--most--do not have that luxury.

I'm not deluding myself into thinking that I can have any sort of impact on the actual election, this country, or the world in general.  But I can lay out my rocks.  I can light my candles. I can mix my herbs.  And I can try to assuage my own worry by a sending of thoughts, prayers, and hopes.

So, for those poll workers who are doing their jobs, for the kids trying to learn in one of the many polling places, and for all those people who are just trying to go about their day today, I wish for you light and love, peace and protection, and the safety of home no matter where you are.

My Version of TGIF

TGIF, for me, currently would translate to “Thank Gods It’s Fall”.  And a truer sentiment has never been expressed.  This summer was…challenging, to put it mildly.

Summer and I have something of a love/hate relationship.  I am vampire pale and prone to illness when overheated.  Needless to say, that particular season and I are not besties.  I’ve come to understand that when June is creeping up, the best I can do is know my limitations, pay attention to them, and try to stay upbeat about what I can manage.  For fucks’ sake, I literally can’t take the heat, and yet every year I plan and implement a garden anyway.  If that doesn’t shine a ray of optimism from my pessimistic soul I don’t know what would.

I suppose if I am being completely honest, I can’t dump the blame entirely on summer, as the issues technically began in the spring.  It just snowballed (ha!) from there.  Late spring was all about a continuation of massive car trouble, money worries, plans getting pushed back, rushing to get the garden in, and what I can see now was also the beginning of a major depressive down-swing.

Then summer hit in full force and brought with it:  delays, crop failures, more canceled plans, many arguments, and weeks of constant noise courtesy of my neighbors’ reno/demo.  And then my old buddy full blown clinical depression dropped in for a visit.  And stayed.

I won’t go into detail, because it’s just not a healthy idea, I’ll just say that after weeks of despondency and truly not-good-thoughts things finally took an upswing, and as abruptly as it descends, the depression finally let up.

But summer wasn’t quite done yet.

I had about a week of “Hey, things are pretty okay…” before catastrophe struck.  I got up one morning with the idea of wanting to make preserves.  I left the house that day solely to head to the fruit stand, and proceeded to become involved in the worst accident I’d ever personally witnessed.  So, there I found myself mid-week in the dregs of August, standing by the side of the interstate in 96° heat, bruised, banged up, bleeding, covered in glass and putting the sunglasses—that I’d just found two car lengths behind my car—back on my head.  All the while staring at my utterly totaled car with the 14 lbs. of peaches in the trunk, and wondering what the fuck.

It was memorable to say the least, and somehow summed up the entire season.

Oh, in case you were wondering, I did get my preserves after all.  My nephew, brother, and mom went to the tow yard the next morning to empty the car and rescue the peaches from the wreckage.  I didn’t get to do more that supervise the jam creation, because…well let’s just say that seat belts and airbags are truly awesome for y’know, staying alive, but suuuuuuuuuck as far as soft tissue and musculature is concerned.  Although, the 60 mph impact might’ve had a lot to do with that, too.

Anyway, my summer was finally closed out by doctors’ visits, numerous insurance phone calls, “new” car hunting, and more physical pain than I’d ever before had to contend with.  Truthfully, thanks to a lot of mind-numbing “taking it easy”, time passing, and physical therapy I am just now starting to head towards feeling normal again.

Now, to be clear, I realize that summer likely isn’t actually to blame for all of this angst and stupidity.  Regardless, I am more thankful for autumn’s arrival than ever before.  I figure, at this point, summer and I will just agree to disagree, have a clean break, and try again (please gods with better results) next year.