Thursday, Jan 31, 2013 | Winter |
paths made by dogs
How weird is this: my eldest daughter found my water bottle. So check that item off the “lost list.”
She knew where it was all along. In fact, it was in her messy room, as pictured in yesterday’s post! Apparently I brought it to her myself on Friday night, around 3 o’clock in the morning, when she was having a croupy coughing fit. I remember the croupy cough (and the momentary fear that it might progress, like CJ’s did last fall, to emergency room proportions). I remember, vaguely, rushing to her room with concern. I remember nothing about fetching her a water bottle, let alone my water bottle. She’s been drinking out of it ever since.
Guess I was tired.
Early this morning, when the location of my bottle was still a mystery, I took a glass canning jar to hot yoga. It worked quite well, actually.
*
My week days have a very particular shape right now, which I find soothing. Mid-winter calm.
Early morning, dark: exercise, usually with a friend.
Breakfast: with children, prepare for school.
Naptime.
Mid-morning til early afternoon: cup of coffee, office, writing.
Somewhere between 1 and 2: lunch, leftovers. If really lucky, meet husband or friend for lunch.
Mid-afternoon: more writing, somewhat frantic, one eye on clock.
3:45: children home. Save work, leave office.
Late afternoon: snacks, supper prep, laundry, catching up, homework, piano practice, hugs, listening, radio (sometimes), noise, dogs, friends.
Early evening: ferry children to and from activities.
Supper: sometimes early, sometimes late, as together as we can manage.
After supper: dishes, snacks, homework, laundry, piano, teeth, reading, talking, children to bed.
After 9pm: sit on couch with tea and dogs and Kevin (when possible), talk with big kids (sometimes), read in bed (always).
*
At yoga, and when I run, I tend to meditate on staying in the moment. Be here now, I tell myself.
I love my schedule right now, as plotted out above. But I know that it will change, as every schedule I’ve ever enjoyed has changed, and drastically. The point is not to worry about what may come, and how all the pieces will fit together in the future, but to enjoy what is here, right now.
Right now I am watching the wind blow the snow around, and hey, there’s a neighbour I know walking by! (Yes, neighbours, I watch you walk by all day). I am enjoying the feeling of having met a deadline. I am finishing a square of dark chocolate. There are black beans with garlic simmering on the stove, and they smell really good. My office is toasty warm. The dogs are sleeping near me in their beds.
It is so quiet.
Wednesday, Jan 30, 2013 | Lists |
messy, happy room
Today’s theme from the universe: You will receive messages that are not meant for you. Literally. I’ve had a phone call, a voice message on my cellphone, and a text message all meant for other people. In all cases, I received a complete message, rather than an “oops, wrong number” and a hang-up.
I have no idea what the universe is trying to tell me (“Not all messages are meant for you?”), but I like catching glimpses of others’ lives, so I don’t mind in the least.
*
A list of items recently lost by me and my eldest daughter
1. 1 pair of swim goggles and a swim cap (hers)
lost in the University of Waterloo’s pool area, on deck or in changeroom
2. 1 pair of Keen’s sandals, size 7 (hers)
lost somewhere between the pool and Bechtel Park’s indoor soccer field
3. 1 blue sweater with hood (shared by me and her)
sorely missed, no idea where lost, or when
4. 1 pair of running shoes, size 7 (hers)
gone missing despite me taking care to bring them home from Bechtel Park’s indoor soccer field, with the prophetic words, “I’d better take these so they don’t get lost.” Haven’t been seen since.
5. 1 blue water bottle (mine)
lost after a run at RIM Park, even though I never took it out of the bag
Tuesday, Jan 29, 2013 | Writing |
Sometimes I wonder what the universe is up to. Also, and relatedly, sometimes I spend way too much time reading clues that may or may not be there. I wonder: what does it all mean, when quite possibly it only means that I’m paying attention to certain things and ignoring others. When quite possibly, the evidence is evidence only of my own perspective.
Remember how I wasn’t going to write freelance this year? Yesterday, I received news that not one but two separate freelancing contacts were no longer in the business of commissioning work. To put it plainly, that means less freelance work for me. So it fits with my plan, right? Except in the past week, I’ve also gotten two out-of-the-blue commissions for other (small) writing jobs. Well, which is it, universe?
A horoscope recently informed me that I was doing too much and would need to scale back. What? No! Argh!
While composing this post, the phone rang. Exciting, right! The phone almost never rings! It was a woman at a call centre who said, “Hello, my name is Jennifer, and I’m calling about your computer, okay?”
Thanks, universe. You just interrupted my train of thought.
This is my 1,000th post as Obscure CanLit Mama. Random, but true.
The question is, says my very patient husband who has to listen to this stuff even more often than you do: Is the universe a good source of advice?
Sunday, Jan 27, 2013 | Birthdays, Winter |
Celebrating a birthday, a Burns day, and a full moon. We dined on “cockadoodle soup” (aka cockaleekie soup, which sounds just as odd, come to think of it) and haggis. There were kilts. The songs all had bagpipes. The girls found their ghillies and performed. And today I am tired and my head aches just a wee bit. Seems just about perfect for the end of January, hey.
Friday, Jan 25, 2013 | Friends, Writing |
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| Tricia and I make a flying leap |
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| So far, we can’t think of a team nickname. Suggestions? |
(Photos by Stephen Edgar)
*
Driving children to and from activities last night, I realized that I’m in a sweet spot in my book. I know what’s happening and what needs, yet, to happen. Two crucial characters have solidified in my mind. I have some exciting scenes to lay out. I could sit and write non-stop if someone would bring me emergency supplies (and if I didn’t have children to feed, snuggle, tuck in, clean up after, and drive to and from activities). I don’t know how long this sweet spot will hold, but I hope it’s right up until the very last page of the book.
I can’t believe I ever tried to write a novel without Scrivener. It’s the most useful structural tool I’ve ever encountered, for writing. Now to see whether I can write a novel with the help of Scrivener. If I can’t, I might as well stop trying, honestly. (The wonderful thing about Scrivener is that it would be useful for any complex book-length project, so if I fail at novel-writing, I’ll turn my hand to some other literary challenge instead.)
