Carrie Snyder | Writer

A Good Morning

Tuesday, Mar 3, 2009 | Kids | 0 Comments

A good morning, goes like this … wake, tired, but that’s okay. Sun pouring through drawn blinds. “Good morning, Mommy!” Fooey never fails to greet me this way. Apple-Apple is reading in her bunk. CJ cooing from his crib. Albus: “Is it morning-time?”

Coffee grinder roaring, bread toasting. Joining in an endless search for tights that fit and have no holes. Bags packed. The first load of laundry tossed into the washer. Lost snowpants and hat located. Muffin recipe considered, rejected. Kisses goodbye. Diaper change and big sister picking out little brother’s clothes for the day (pink sweater with rainbow detailing at wrists chosen). Up and down the stairs. Breakfast shared by mother and babe (we both like cooked cereals with yogurt and pearsauce). Muffin recipe chosen. Hair braided. Outfit for daughter dug out of basket of clean clothes waiting on living-room floor. Skim front section of newspaper. Grocery delivery, teamwork to put everything away.

Arrival of morning playdate! First cup of coffee! Check in with Facebook. Start muffins. Check diaper, change. Clementime peeled, and raisins and seeds doled out. Play. The smell of fresh baking. Second half-filled cup of coffee (the dregs). Diapers into the washer. Muffins out of the oven. Second snacktime. Fussy baby. Girls playing upstairs. Baby in backpack.

Eggs boiling on stove for lunch. Blog. Nap. Peace. Radio (Jian Ghomeshi). Sunlight!

Road Trip

Monday, Mar 2, 2009 | Travel, Writing | 3 Comments

So this past weekend we took a whirlwind weekend jaunt to Archbold, Ohio to be at my grandma’s 90th birthday party. The drive used to take about five hours, but we couldn’t manage it in less than seven this time. The border suddenly seemed like an almost impermeable membrane, and I’ve never felt as unwelcome in a country that is actually mine. Border guards are no longer border guards: they belong to the Department of Homeland Security. We were tagged and made to stop and wait at customs. It’s almost impossible not to feel slightly criminal in such situations: when told by highly armed men that you must leave your vehicle in their possession, and given confusing instructions about what you are permitted to bring along, and what you must under no circumstances take with you. It all ended up being a fairly brief clerical issue, cleared up within half an hour, but it felt deeply uncomfortable. And then we drove into Detroit, which is an abandoned city, almost like a ghost-town, its roadways permanently under construction. We’ve been crossing the border for almost twenty-five years, and it seems like that entrance onto the I-75 is a forever changing detour.

We had decided to follow our GPS rather than using one of those old-fashioned devices known as a “map,” and that resulted in a rather roundabout route to Archbold, made worse by our collective hunger (we hadn’t anticipated the border issue, and had decided to wait for lunch till crossing), and needing to find a bathroom, and the driver (me) making a series of wrong turns (husband says, “Go left”; driver turns right). I consider myself generally calm, as is my gentle husband, but suspect, based on Saturday’s evidence, that we are not destined to win the Amazing Race.

The hotel was a lovely oasis, with a beautiful swimming pool. We slept remarkably well, seven in one room. And on the way home, just across the Canadian border, we ate lunch at a Viet-Thai restaurant that we came upon completely serendipitously.

Today is my writing day, and it’s short, and I’m Monday-morning-brained. But I’ve had a piece of good news, professionally: I’ve earned a small grant toward this book. It shouldn’t matter so much, but does make the work feel that much more purposeful. The project is about half-finished, and then will need some sturdy rewriting and editing at the opening chapters/stories. These are BIG stories, much longer and more intricate than I’m used to writing. Yet I want them also to feel as clean and cut-to-the-bone as possible. So that nothing remains but that which matters to the story. Nothing like life, really, yet hopefully illuminating thereof.

Local Food Rounder-Upper

Tuesday, Feb 24, 2009 | Chores, Kids, Local Food, Music, Organizing | 1 Comment

A new discovery: soup on Wednesdays, with fresh bread and cheese, has been a big hit these past couple of weeks. Wednesdays we need a fast meal, on the table by 5pm, in order to get the big kids to their music class after supper. Cream of cauliflower, made with frozen veggies, last week; black bean and hamburger, the one before. This week I’m planning to try a grain & bean recipe that sounds easy, nutritious, and will make use of some frozen beans.

This week theme is: Dig in the Freezer. Honestly, frozen apricots? Suggestions? I froze a couple of bags last summer, lovely and organic, and have no idea what to do with them now.

Yesterday it was a big red sauce from the freezer tomatoes, with basil shrimp (both basil and shrimp from the freezer), over pasta. The leftover tomato sauce will be sent back to the freezer, in easy-to-use format. Always handy to have tomato sauce prepared and ready to heat and serve.

Tonight, it’s turkey sausage with chickpeas (both from the freezer), and cabbage. I’m winging the recipe with flavours leaning toward curry. Over rice. Wednesday, soup, as mentioned above. Thursday will be baked potatoes with leftovers on the side. Friday, I’m boiling up a big frozen chicken for broth and stock and meat. I’ll make some of it into a comforting illness-fighting noodle soup.

This week, thus far, has felt a bit scrabbling-about-ish … I have to remind myself to focus and remember to set priorities and stick with them, to keep the planning very basic and simple. Can I continue to blame the weather? I have felt overwhelmed at moments this week, incapable of figuring out what needs to be done most urgently. Partly, it’s due to Kevin working this past weekend. That removes my day of cleaning and organizing, otherwise known as Saturday, and it means the floor is still covered, in parts, in last week’s crumbs, and last week’s scattering of toys hasn’t been gathered and sorted and returned to order. I really like when all the toys are in the baskets and drawers and containers to which they belong: craft items in the craft cupboard; doll clothes in the orange bin the girls’ room; books on shelves; baby blocks and puzzles in the baby blocks and puzzles bin (okay, honestly, I’m the only person in the whole house to whom this really seems to matter, so it is a losing battle, but nevertheless one I intend to keep on fighting).

Priority at this exact moment: wake baby from nap, change diaper, load handful of children and off to music class. Like, now.

Literacy Rocks

Sunday, Feb 22, 2009 | Reading | 1 Comment

Reading has transformed our mornings and evenings. The two eldest children have graduated to chapter books, and are utterly drawn to the written word. Apple-Apple and Albus both read in bed, and it’s meant we can tuck them in earlier, while letting them stay up a bit later. And in the morning, Albus gets up early and snuggles in a blanket on the kitchen floor … with a book. (I should add that the kitchen floor is heated, and it’s his favourite place to read). The difference between an hour spent devouring a book, and an hour spent sedated before the television is quite remarkable. Television, while temporarily diverting, inevitably leads to “TV Brain,” as we call it: you know what I mean–that irritable, bored, restless state of mind and being. The kids raise their eyes from a book wanting to talk and share and describe.

That said, Fooey does watch television most every day, because I rely on that “quiet time.” But both Albus and Apple-Apple seem bored by it, and it is never be their first choice for an activity.

Grandma’s Sugar Cookies

Friday, Feb 20, 2009 | Recipes | 0 Comments

My Grandma King turns 90 on March 1, and in her honour I’m posting her Sugar Cookie recipe. She was a wonderful baker, and baked many of my birthday cakes growing up–always angel food with strawberry or chocolate frosting. We never lived near her, but when we visited we must have baked together often, because those memories have remained most clear.

Since I grew up eating these sugar cookies, I didn’t realize until adulthood that they are quite unique. I’ve never found a similar recipe in a standard cookbook. I was once told that Grandma managed a restaurant before her marriage, and that these were the cookies served there: in Archbold, Ohio.

About five years ago, I telephoned to request the recipe, so this comes directly from her. As she now suffers from Alzheimers, this recipe, and its provenance, is especially precious. I used to make these cookies for playgroup, where they became known as “muffin-top cookies” because that’s exactly what they taste like. In fact, I was inspired to make them today on request from a little playgroup fellow who might be visiting this afternoon; considering I haven’t made them for a year or so, it was the first thing he asked when he saw me last time: “Do you have any of those sugar cookies?” I think that’s a pretty good endorsement.

The cookies are delicate and cakey and crumbly and must be watched closely in the oven, lest the bottoms burn. They are also difficult to replicate, and I’ve had the occasional flop, without being able to pinpoint why. I’m pretty sure Grandma’s never flopped. The ones I baked today with Fooey turned out very well indeed, though they still aren’t exactly like Grandma’s. The recipe below is half the size she gave me, and enough for our family (she estimated half would make about 3 dozen cookies). I don’t find these cookies keep well, so eat them up while they’re fresh.

Grandma King’s Sugar Cookies

Beat together 1 1/2 cups white sugar, 2 eggs, and 1 cup of canola oil. Add 1 cup of buttermilk, or substitute 1 cup of milk soured with 1 tbsp white vinegar (let the mixture sit for 10-15 mins. before adding). Beat together well with 1 1/2 tsp vanilla. In a separate bowl, sift together 3 cups flour, 3 tsp baking powder, and 1/2 tsp salt. (Optional: add 2 tsp baker’s unsweetened cocoa powder). Add dry to wet, and beat together till smooth.

Place rack in middle of oven. Heat to 450 degrees. Spoon one tablespoon of batter per cookie onto lightly greased tray. Leave room because they spread a bit. Bake for FOUR minutes. Watch closely. Cool briefly on tray, scrape off with a sharp spatula, cool additionally on racks.

Note: Today, we added the unsweetened cocoa powder, partly because Fooey wanted a chocolate cookie, and this is not a batter to which you can successfully add chocolate chips, and partly because I used a part-whole-wheat flour and wanted to hide the graininess. Grandma only ever used pure-white flour, which makes a pure-white cookie with a golden bottom. But the chocolate proved to be a nice addition.

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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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