Impatience

Honestly, I don’t want to spend another day feeling this low on patience. I feel like a spring that wants to be sprung.
We were fortunate to get out in the snow and wind, and go ice skating at a neighbours’ (everyone skating but me and CJ, that is).
But still.
Excerpt from an ongoing conversation, which has been ongoing in this vein ALL DAY LONG (topic interchangeable):
“No one loves me,” sayeth Apple-Apple, lying on the floor behind me.
“We all love you,” sayeth OCM. “We just want you to take a bath.”
“No one ever plays with me. No one ever plays with me when I’m bored.”
“You just need to take a bath.”
“No, baths are yucky. Baths are disgusting.”
“Honey, you just need to take a bath.”
“No! You can’t make me have a bath anymore!”
I feel like George’s dad in Seinfeld screaming SERENITY NOW!
Patience, please!

The Flu

This Blog has the flu. Even though it got its flu shot. Apparently, the strain making the rounds wasn’t included in the mix. Don’t worry about me, however. I am fine. Touch wood and send skyward a hearty prayer.

My children, on the other hand; sigh. One has very nearly recovered the pink of health, and the other, suffering pallidly, is clad in green pajamas, a fuzzy hat with earflaps, and a giant blue blanket. Those affected are school-aged; the other two have thus far escaped. (Touch wood; pray). This morning, things are looking up: the kids are playing together–all four! And I am sneakily watching … as it all falls apart. Hmm. Excuse me, dear Blog, you’ll have to fend for yourself momentarily. Drink your tea.

I’m back. The lull has returned to the living-room. Children quietly reading books and baby happily knocking books off the shelf (his favourite upright occupation).

Last night I went out to shovel snow. That was actually a mental health necessity. I’d been indoors since Sunday; though Sunday we all dragged our post-Robbie Burns selves down to the theatre and while Kevin did clean-up, I played the grand piano on stage, and the kids danced. There are photos on the blog opposite.

My local food round-up evaporated when the Blog lost its appetite. But now that the Blog is cranky and hungry for toast (sure signs of improved health), I can tell you that we’re working with a Vegetarian theme this week. Which means the food is only somewhat local. I made a nice big red sauce from the freezer tomatoes and we’ve had pasta, we’ve had baked mac & cheese, we’ve had chili. The kids have been drinking the homemade grape juice as a special treat during illness. Tonight we’re planning corn bread and honey-baked lentils. And, as our stores dwindle, I am feeling excited about Nina’s buying club starting up again in the spring. Whoo-hoo!!! And an extra whoo-hoo just for the very thought of spring!!!

25 Random Things

I just wasted, er spent, a ridiculous amount of time doing this “25 random things” exercise on Facebook (it is actually pretty fun, which is why I did it). You just write twenty-five completely random things about yourself. Decided to post it here, too. I’ve changed one because in the five minutes since I pushed “publish” a better idea came to me.

1. I’m the eldest of five children and the only one with red hair, which I “got” from my great-grandma Ida Snyder. We almost named CJ after her; except he turned out to be a CJ instead.
2. I play piano, some classical, but mostly by ear. I write exceptionally cheesy songs. They always make use of the same four chords.
3. I have a minor in Peace and Conflict Studies.
4. At one point in my life, I was certain I would do a doctorate, but instead became a “terminal masters”; ie. stopped with an MA in English Lit.
5. I played Anne of Green Gables in high school. I taught drama at summer camp.
6. For several years in my early teens, we lived in the country, and I had ponies.
7. I really can’t ice skate, but loved roller skating as a kid.
8. I take up jogging every few months, but never stick with it.
9. I met my husband before we’d heard of email, and therefore have a collection of fat letters he wrote to me that spring. They smell like patchouli.
10. Before children, Kevin and I used to go off-road cycling on ski trails.
11. I was homeschooled for a year and a half: grade eight and part of grade nine. This coincided with the ponies.
12. If Albus had been a girl, he would have been named Lucia. If Apple-Apple had been a boy, she would have been Teddy. If Fooey had been a boy, she would have been Walter. For CJ, see above.
13. I worked as a copy editor at a newspaper; it was my only “real” job.
14. My first job was baling hay, age twelve, on the neighbour’s farm. And picking stones. He paid us $1.50 an hour, and I was over the moon. Honestly, I would have done it for free.
15. I was born in Hamilton, Ontario. My parents are both American. I have dual citizenship, and feel like I should know more of the history of both countries.
16. I’ve lived in Ontario, Germany, Ohio, and Nicaragua, and have visited Spain, Switzerland, Belgium, China, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, and Trinidad & Tobago. When I was twenty-one, I drove across the continent with my parents and siblings.
17. My friend Katie, my brother Christian, and I tried to spend the night camping on the barn roof in sleeping bags once. Yes, on top of the roof. Fortunately, we couldn’t fall asleep and decided to come inside. Ditto, the time my brothers and I tried to spend the night in the “treehouse” we’d built out of scrap boards.
18. I used to play a lot of card games. Now I can’t remember any of the rules.
19. I was in the room when my sister Edna was born. We are twelve and a half years apart, and no one ever guesses we’re related when we’re side by side.
20. We moved often when I was growing up, and the longest I’ve lived in one place is here, in the house Kevin and I bought a little over five years ago.
21. I like to walk, in almost any weather.
22. I prefer hanging laundry to dry, and washing dishes by hand.
23. I love cooking from scratch, and baking, but I can’t sew or knit, despite having been taught these skills by grandmothers and various other motherly figures at different points in my life.
24. I was more than two weeks overdue, and my mom spent two days being induced before she went into labour. I’m a Capricorn, but sometimes I wonder.
25. I have a knee-jerk resistence to change, but actually thrive on it.

Word of the Year

Today’s topic … nope, haven’t got one. I’m tired, end-of-the-week drained. Needing to prep for the arrival of guests this evening. Fooey wants me to bake a cake. Bread dough rising. Plus two potential evening outings on the horizon. If I can rally some oomph.

Fooey’s got a friend here and they are playing so sweetly in the room next door. “Neighbour CJ” has joined them, too. I’m supervising by ear.
This week I’ve gotten a bit more writing time; but not enough, and it’s painful to leave chapters mid-telling, with the over-arching narrative hanging there too, just scribbled notes left for myself, for later, which hopefully I’ll be able to interpret. My printing is appalling, a cross between failed cursive script and all-out scrawl, with idiosyncratic short-form thrown in for good measure. Spent one walk to school, post-writing-stint, struggling to delineate and then sear into my memory a series of plot changes and character developments. One kind mentor once told me that the writing will wait for me; mostly I agree and am comforted by that thought, but sometimes I wonder what gets lost. Nothing brilliant; just unique to that moment.
A friend and I have chosen a “word of the year.” We each chose our own, and will focus and reflect on that word for the full year, checking in periodically to evaluate and discuss. I’m excited about this project because it feels manageable–one word! And I love words. And it has the potential to anchor me in a variety of situations. The word I’ve chosen is “imagine.” Or its variation “imagination.” I wanted an active word related to potential change and growth and movement, because my life feels very rooted already, and I want to challenge myself to question and be flexible and aware of the possibilities even within a grounded, locally-lived life. I’m also someone who likes to dream, whether or not these dreams come to fruition, but as a way of exploring and adventuring. And I hope the word will be a reminder that there are always alternative solutions to even the most insignificant conflict, if something isn’t working.

My Children Reflect on President Obama

Conversation (paraphrased) with children on way home from school today re Barack Obama’s inauguration:

Apple-Apple: We cheered for Barack Obama. The lunch-room helpers did a poll about who was glad George Bush got hit in the head with a shoe, and everyone was glad. [note: No teachers were present; the lunch-room helpers are in grade four or five.]
Me: What was this poll?
Apple-Apple: repeats above, approximately.
Me: Huh. Well, no one has thrown a shoe at Barack Obama yet.
Albus: That’s okay. He would stop the shoe with his magical forcefield.
Me: Umm … Barack Obama doesn’t have actual magical powers.
Albus and Apple-Apple: Yes, he does! He has lots of powers. Super-powers.
Me: Well, you’re right, he does have lots of power. But no super-powers. He’s not magical.
Fooey, piping up: That’s because he isn’t real.
Me: Well, he actually is real.
Fooey: No he’s not. He’s on tv!

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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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