Carrie Snyder | Writer

Hi 5

Friday, Feb 20, 2009 | Kids | 0 Comments

Not writing much in Blogland, just noticed. Not sure why. I’m writing more in fictional world, so perhaps that’s draining off all the words.

Heartwarming thing my baby did yesterday: toddled up to me, grabbed my hand, opened it, and placed into my palm a toy he’d been playing with. I almost cried.

He also heard me say “hi” this morning, and instantly grabbed my hand and tried to give me a high five. This is a new trick he learned this week, and it made me think we should teach him more. He’s so eager to communicate and connect and participate. There are times when he walks through the house laughing and laughing–joining in with whatever fun and jokes are going on.

Just repaired son Albus’s totally shredded snow pants, and though the kids were impressed (“you know how to knit, Mommy?”) …. sewing, not my thing.

Saturdayness

Saturday, Feb 14, 2009 | Bicycles, Local Food | 2 Comments

Update on the intention to make cupboard-items from scratch, such as: crackers. Made them for book club and they were a) labour intensive, b) set off our smoke alarm at 10pm, and, most egregiously, c) tasted ordinary. Homemade food generally tastes superior, so much so that preparing and eating homemade meals from scratch essentially ruin the ability to eat and enjoy a prepackaged, grocery store frozen, or fast food meal ever again. Sadly, these crackers inspired one to reach for a box of factory-fresh.

Will I try again? The other cracker issue was that every recipe I read made use of a vastly different method; and none sounded easy. Strike one on the pantry plan.

Fooey has been riding her bicycle everywhere, despite frigid temperatures. We had a thaw that cleared the sidewalks. I’ve perfected the technique of pulling the bicycle over the bumps while pushing the stroller. This reminded me fondly of the days when Fooey was the baby in the stroller, and I’d use it to push Apple-Apple on her tricycle, and could still pull Albus’s bicycle behind.

Okay, time to start cooking for tonight’s Valentine’s potluck at a friend’s house: potato, sauerkraut, and sausage bake. All local. May throw in some yams, too. The house is temporarily peaceful, as Kevin has taken the three larger children out on their bicycles, and CJ is napping. Must get scrubbing and paring whilst the quiet holds.

Tripping over Life’s Little Lessons

Wednesday, Feb 11, 2009 | Big Thoughts, Kids, Writing | 0 Comments

Random thoughts kicking around …

1. My friend Katie’s Facebook status recently read (to paraphrase): “Katie is grateful for all of the reasons she is tired.” I’d like to borrow and adopt that as my own default tagline. There’s nothing wrong with complaining and worrying sometimes, but I’m a big believer in attitude making a genuine difference in how our lives proceed. Not that daily gratitude will prevent disaster and sadness, but that disaster and sadness will be made easier to bear. I am thankful not to have to test this theory, except in small ways, at present.

2. Experience = wisdom. Right? Somehow I’ve always accepted as fact that layers of experience, age, will gradually result in wisdom gained. Except I’ve had the revelation that it’s possible to keep discovering the same things over and over again, in slightly mutated form, such that it would seem all that marvelous experience hasn’t been exceptionally integrated into a grand interior mural of cohesive wisdom, but is hanging about in separate clumsy segments waiting for me to trip over it again. Partly, this is to do with age itself, and the feeling that time continues to speed up, and the fact that my brain is actually about two seasons behind, right now. It’s so hard to maintain a focus, to remember the resolutions, to stick with the plan (while trying to remain flexible) and ultimately better oneself. The previous sentence would be a terrible mantra.

3. Speaking of mantras, my siblings, when confronted with the above rambling non-mantra, suggested I should keep a “Life’s Little Lessons” kind of diary. A list somewhere with those nuggets of wisdom recorded.

4. Just had another thought: maybe it’s not that important to remember these lessons. Maybe experience simply kicks in during a regular day as situations arise, everything from walking to the library in the rain pushings a stroller and pulling a three-year-old on her bicycle (and enjoying it, as experience tells me such moments are fleeting), to rewriting a story a million times over, because there is always something more to learn.

5. Little Life Lessons have a tendency to sound bland, trite, and obvious written down.

6. Still, it might be nice to return to thoughts like: I like baking bread! Or, I’m glad for everything that makes me tired! Or, three-year-olds need to feel like they’re independent sometimes! Or, you can always say your sorry, even if it was an accident! Et cetera. Yup, that could become addictive. (Why each life lesson cries out for an exclamation point, I cannot say. But it does!)

7. Writing. I want to blog about the writing, but nothing coheres into firm thought, just the usual angst-ridden blether. I’m finishing a poetry collection right now, mostly on young motherhood, and memory. And I’m continually writing and rewriting these stories in the Nicaragua book, and wondering how many more years will be wasted/usefully applied in pursuit of that book, and whether perhaps the subject is just too loaded and therefore doomed. Perhaps I will understand more clearly when this draft is done, but if experience has taught me anything … no, I won’t.

8. What was that about daily gratitude? Here’s a little life lesson: it is infinitely easier to be grateful for and to love my children than to be grateful for and to love my other creative outlet of writing. I have such a simple relationship with my children, despite the minute complexities. I just love them. I trust my instincts about them, and have never questioned this journey we’re on together. But the writing … I love it and crave it and need it; and hate it and resent it and agonize over it. I haven’t yet discovered the antidote.

Local Food Round-Up

Monday, Feb 9, 2009 | Kids, Local Food | 0 Comments

Is there a plan? Here’s an amusing detail about this past week’s local food plan: the best meal of the week was the one I threw together on the fly, zero advance plotting. Ugh. Or fab. Except that such results do not inspire continued Planning.

Nevertheless, despite, because, as if, et cetera …

I’m planning to cook a pot of black beans for one main meal this week. In the fridge, I still have a few red beans from the chili meal, so for a second meal this week, I’ll toss those together and make a two-bean soup, or another chili. Meal number three may involve yet more of those beans (I always make lots), and some red sauce I froze from Friday’s successful meal–spiced up with cumin and coriander and baked in layers with tortillas and cheese. I’m also glad to have a winter squash to pop in the oven for colour and variety, and some cabbage to chop into a salad.

So the theme appears to be, by default: beans. I’m off meat at present, so I’ll stick with some local hamburger as an add-in, if desired.

Have to add as a note that I originally typed: “I’m planning to cook a plot of black beans …” Sounds like a spicy short story set in the tropics. I was going to riff on that theme for a few glorious moments of fantasy here, but have been advanced upon by a weary husband holding a newly bathed and howling baby who looks darned adorable in his ducky towel and, though said babe is pre-verbal, he seems to be calling my name rather effectively.

Well, then …. Shabaddy-woo (as I like to say, heaven knows why, to my baby).

Children Who Blog

Saturday, Feb 7, 2009 | Kids | 0 Comments

This blog, and my frequent typing spells herein, have attracted the attention of the children, who wish to join in the fun. I indulged Apple-Apple yesterday, and the result, creative spelling and all, appears below; but when she and her brother began frothing at the keyboard this morning, I decided to create another parallel blog to send their missives into thin air, and the link appears at right. We launch with a brief reflective piece by Apple-Apple on Mom’s book club. Worth noting, though not mentioned, was her observation this morning that just when she thought she was falling asleep last night, she heard “another shriek of laughing.” This was spoken in world-weary tones. “What was so funny?” Albus wanted to know, geniunely perplexed. You know, moms–not the funniest people on the planet, according to that population of critics known as offspring.

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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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