This message is not for you

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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

Hello, universe

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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?

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed

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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.

Fighting through the January blues

Tricia and I make a flying leap
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.)

Ten-minute tidy

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I do almost all of my exercise in the dark these days.

Spin and weights on Mondays, now, and spin again on Tuesdays, both with the same friend. We catch up on the drives to and from class.

On Wednesdays, I run with another friend. This has been our ritual for several years now, and we go no matter the weather, though we did consider heading for the track yesterday. It was -27C on her outdoor thermometer, so we layered up, and ran a loop around the ‘hood rather than running out to the “country” to see the sunrise. We felt like heroes. But I was so cold by the end that I honestly thought I might perish on my own front porch while my stiff fingers failed to operate the house key — brain apparently had frozen too.

This morning I went to yoga. It was light by the time I got home.

On Friday evenings I run while the kids are at soccer. It’s dark, dark, dark. The photo above was taken on one of those runs. I wear a headlamp and go no matter the weather. I tell myself: if I can do this now, I can do this forever.

On Sundays I play soccer; it’s not dark, but it’s also indoors.

I love watching the light return. But there is something exhilerating about being awake while the world is still sleeping. In my early twenties, I loved being awake and writing at 3 o’clock in the morning. In my late thirties, I love being awake and moving just a few hours later.

*

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Yesterday, my friend Tricia and I taped an interview for our Amazing Race audition video. We are getting help from a friend who is a professional videographer. He brought stuff, including a cameraman and lights. We were in Tricia’s living-room but it felt like being on a set. (She blogged about it too.)
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It was nerve-wracking because one’s strengths and weaknesses felt instantly apparent. I have too much nervous energy! I can’t sit still! It also challenges me to get out of my head, where I’m living rather intensely these days, working on this historical feminist sports romance I seem to be writing.

But it was also really fun. Really fun. I won’t post any photos from yesterday’s shoot (they’re not really mine to post), but here’s one I took last week while our kids were playing. Tricia is trying to teach me how to “frown-smile.” Apparently, I can’t frown-smile. This is more like sad-clown-smile.

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About me

My name is Carrie Snyder. I work in an elementary school library. I’m a fiction writer, reader, editor, dreamer, arts organizer, workshop leader, forever curious. Currently pursuing a certificate in conflict management and mediation. I believe words are powerful, storytelling is healing, and art is for everyone.

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