I'd rather take a beating

No, this isn't one of those kinds of posts. There's a separate blog for that stuff.

This is about powerlessness.

It seems like I am getting a lesson in what I can do and what I can't, and I really don't like the length or content of the list in the "can't" column.

I hate it when my friends hurt. I hate it. I want to help. If truth be told, I'd like to be able to fix whatever's wrong, but I try now not to be a superhero, so I'd just like to be able to help.

It seems like a dozen or more of my friends are in tough spots right now. Several need jobs, some have kid troubles, some have health issues, a couple are being bullied at work, at least one is being discriminated against because of gender stuff, and more than a few are struggling financially. There is nothing I can do to alleviate any of their suffering. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

I have my own brand of stress in my life, too. I was sick for two weeks, missed a bunch of work and got behind just when I thought I might catch up. Oh, and while I was sick? I had to go to the hospital to see if I might actually die or have the plague or something, and I came home with a bill topping $2,000 from the emergency room where I endured a strep test and a CAT-scan with an IV with funky dye only to be told that I probably had a virus, and to go home, lie down and push fluids. Did I mention that I have no insurance? Yeah. That bill's now in my lap.

But I have been in tough spots before. I know I'll get through. It's watching my friends hurt that gets to me the most.

Honestly, I'd rather take a beating in a biker bar full of strangers than watch my friends hurt the way they're hurting right now. It makes my stomach hurt to see them suffer. It makes my head hurt. I want to help. God, but how I want to help.

And I can't.

There is not much I can do.

I can listen. I can empathize. I can hold them in my heart, if not always my arms.

And I can ache for them.

***

For the record, this is NOT where I want to hear platitudes about taking care of myself first, or letting go or any of that crap. I just want to say aloud that it hurts me when people I love are hurting. I don't need advice, nor do I really want it. I have to feel this, get through it, and turn it over and let it go. I know that. I just needed to say it out loud.

inertia

I feel like I should be writing more. I have tons of ideas in my head. Loads of things I want to write about and share. But I can't get out of my own way.

The bra project was a delightful diversion - oh, and "Iron Maidenform" won the naming contest hands-down. The friend who came up with that name was delighted and pleased. Sharon, one of the organizers, was delighted to have the bra in her possession and now I have ideas for something else. But first I have to get some real work done

Work is rough this year. The economy is in the toilet, so lots of people are holding off on repairs and maintenance to their homes. I had a nice big-ish job in Portland last month, and I'll have another there next week, but otherwise it has been pretty thin. Some friends of ours in the Portland area have been lobbying pretty hard for us to move back there. I don't know though. There are pros and cons to all of it.

I like living on MDI, but Portland has a lot more going on, particularly in the winter months.

We have a great community of friends here, but we have friends there, too.

There is better access to charity medical care in Portland, and that would be good for Laura - she could get her back treated. Here, we have no options.

But living cheek-by-jowl in Portland again does not appeal to me. It just doesn't. I don't like hearing and knowing what my next door neighbors are doing, and I don't like them hearing/knowing what I am doing.

But there is work there, at least more of it than there is here. I have told some friends that if I can see six month's worth of work there, we could move. I can't just pick up and go without having some kind of income set up for when we get there, but I am not sure we can afford to stay here. It is discouraging. I love living in this part of Maine. Yes, I complain about tourists and cruise ships, but honestly, they interfere on a limited number of days each year. Most of the time, we have Acadia all to ourselves. The trout are hidden in quiet pools and streams, if hikers wander through, they quietly wander back off again without disturbing us or the fish. It's a pretty good life.

Except for the lack of work and access to medical care.

Yeah. except for that.

I guess what I'd prefer is that a move like this present itself in a positive way for me. But I don't see it that way. This is a retreat, in my mind, not progress, not an advance. Like I/we lost a battle of some sort. I don't know.

What I do know is that I have some metal that I need to make into a handrail for some customers. That will keep me busy today and probably tomorrow. The rest of the summer's work will fill in the way it fills in. There is not much I can do beyond schedule it on the calendar and follow the money.

And be open to what the world offers me. I have to work on that. I think I need to stop trying to fit the world into my schedule and to see what I can do to work in harmony with what the world sends my way. That will be my goal for today. Blessed be.

Cookies for queer rights!

So there's a voting thing happening next week. Tuesday, in fact. Primary day in Maine. It is also the day when the Maine Christian Civic League plans to be out in force encouraging people to sign a petition to repeal discrimination laws protecting people based on their sexual orientation and to eliminate funding for school Civil Rights Teams, which have been wonderfully effective in reducing bullying and creating safe schools. It would also ban gay marriage in Maine. Which is already against the law, but what the hey, it's the CCL, so why should facts and laws get in the way?

So some friends of mine are working with the great folks over at Equality Maine to staff the polling places with a sort of "Truth Squad" of volunteers. To my dismay, the volunteers will not be causing any kind of a ruckus or stink. They are merely going to let people know what exactly they are being asked to sign and ask them to please decline. They are not going to confront the CCL folks, not going to badger them, not shout at them, call them names or in any way be unpleasant.

Obviously not a job suited to my personality.

I was asked to volunteer for a shift, but after considering it with the local organizer, we agreed that I would not be the best person to represent EQME as a volunteer. So we figured out a way I can help out, but that will not require me to be nice or polite to anyone I don't feel inclined to be nice or polite to. I'm going to bake cookies for the volunteers.

K, the local organizer, asked if I would make little boxes of cookies for the volunteers and I readily agreed. Great! She said. I need 20. Oh shit.

That's a lot of cookies. Even if the boxes are small, that's a LOT of cookies.

Well, it's getting to be about that time of the year anyway, so I fired up the home cookie factory and got crankin'. At the end of the first day, I had two full batches of ginger cookies ready to be made into ohmigods, a full double batch of sugar cookies a quadruple-batch of chocolate-peanut butter no-bakes, and two triple batches of coconut macaroons. I am nearly up to my ass in cookies.

Today I cleaned the living room with my friend D, and took a vacation from cookies. Tomorrow, though, I plan to make some chocolate chip cookies, some Russian Tea Cakes, and possibly some peanut butter cookies. It depends. Peanut butter cookies and I have issues. It has to do with power and control and burned edges.

As you can see from the picture, I have a variety of tools for the job, but very little counter space. In my home kitchen, I use a plank laid across my double sink as a work-space. There is very little room. So, in order to make a little extra, I lay the board you see across the top of the open drawer to create a little more work area and to provide easy access to the things I am going to need. It ain't perfect, but it works pretty slick.

I just made a batch of macaroons for a friend of mine who is in town for the weekend. This will put me up the list of most-favored-friend status and may even garner some bribery points for favors later on. I'm hopin' anyway. My triple batch of macaroons makes 12 large cookies about the size of a half a tennis ball, plus about 50 about the size of half a golf ball. After quality control, the true yield is usually something less than that, but it's about right.