Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

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Archives for November 2011

Five Senses Tour, Winter’s Beginning

    What a wonderful week we’re enjoying. Not without its stressors and mysteries, of course, but there’s some love or magic or something in the air. I have learned to slow things down even more when life is like this. Wishing you a big, nourishing dose of this peace. Here is my little detour on Monica’s 5 Senses Tour.

See: The beginnings of Christmas decorations in our home and the end of the colorful leaf parade on our property. 
This is possibly my favorite inspiration photo so far.
I have resolved to not buy anything new this year, 
to just use what we have plus maybe 
a few items from the produce department.
Hear: Our parrot practicing new words, our guinea fowl debating creationism with the geese, lots of Soundgarden on the radio today, and an excellent playlist of Cajun music while I write.
Taste: Really good, strong, fresh, piping hot coffee with real sugar and cream in it. Big surprise, I know.
Touch: Perfectly fresh, clean, cool, pressed sheets on our bed and then Handsome’s face shaved just as smoothly, between those sheets.
Read: Still nibbling at the same book, which is picking up speed as the narrator’s love affairs do the same.
Think: I have been simmering a lot about the environments we create and allow for ourselves, the deliberance with which we live each day and the conscious will we apply to life and relationships.

I found this, like so many other great images, on Pinterest.
I believe this is the original source.
Feel: Overflowing optimism, faith, hope, excitement, suspense, secret joy, gratitude ahead of time… However you might label this ribs-deep emotion that everything is going to be alright, that miracles are in the air, that’s how I feel this week.

My sweet chickens are several years older now than in this photo,
but I’ve been gazing at this image for over a week.
And when I spoke to them a couple of nights ago
their voices were as young and clear and happy as they were on this day.
This is a huge, welcome blessing in our home.

Be Sensual. That’s how you were created…
xoxoxoxo

5 senses tour

Mutual Admiration Society: Liebster Blog Award

   Growing up, our home’s population was slightly but powerfully overwhelmed by women and girls. Mom made conscious efforts to encourage us and reinforce good behavior, shelling out compliments and affirmation richly and regularly. Dad, on the other hand, though a loving and positive man for sure, took great pleasure in teasing us and tempering our warm-fuzzies with jokes about the “Mutual Admiration Society.” This is how he affectionately referred to our dinner table conversations about how good and pretty and talented and awesome we all were. 
   Well, so here we are a thousand years later in blogland, a place that did not exist during those formative years. And some of us are still trading warm fuzzies, even if a voice somewhere in the background is saying how silly we are to do so.
   This morning I was delighted to read that my ten-four good buddy M Half had included me in a very sweet and encouraging list of her fave new/small scale blogs. I am the giddy recipient of something called a Liebster Blog Award!!!
   The word liebster is German for dearest. Sharing the award is a little way of recognizing, as M Half put it, “up and coming bloggers with less than 200 followers.” Umm, yep, I qualify. But juuuuuust barely…
   Isn’t that nice??  If my Dad reads this he may very well raise his eyebrows and look over his glasses then say something witty to keep me grounded, but that’s okay. I know we all try to temper our appetites for approval by being honest. And I know for myself that cross pollinating ideas with a handful of intelligent, passionate people has greatly improved my general well being since starting this blog in May. I groove the exchange. I really do. I love forcing myself to articulate things that sometimes hurt and other times are either  challenging or just plain silly. And I am so grateful for people who are bold enough to cast their own two cents here and there. The world is clearly full of people worth knowing.

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   Without further ado, my own nominees for this sweet little award:
The M Half  Despite appearances, my giving this award right back to my friend is not merely reciprocal. She is a consistent poster, which motivates me, which is ironic because she scoffs gently at motivational bloggers, which is really ironic because she is a very accepting person, which is beautiful because she accepts people who might not accept her first. She is a writer and editor by trade and has a clear, readable style which gives me a hungry goal. She also takes the time to edit my stuff, a personal favor for which I will always be eternally grateful.
   More importantly, she has a view of the world unencumbered by dogma and typicality. Is that a word? I shall invent it just for her. She resists typicality, and I love that about her, She keeps me accountable for opinions I might otherwise resign to habit, tradition, etc. But when I stick with tradition she still respects me in the morning..Thanks for everything, M Half. I am a better person for knowing you!
Cabbage Ranch   I have more in common with this lovely woman in terms of longings than actual facts, but we are both mothers (though I have sixteen years of seniority over her) and we do both have horses and live in the south central United States (though on opposite sides of our legendary Red River). Katie writes about her baby “Beep,” about home keeping, her horses, her husband, living in the country, really anything she wants.
   On top of it all, Katie also works outside the home, which sort of underscores for me her industriousness. I think I first glanced at her blog by reading comments on Pioneer Woman, a little site you probably haven’t heard of yet. PW is just getting her blog started you guys, so let’s be nice to the new girl. Okay?
In My Wild Eden  I cannot remember exactly how I first came to read this truly beautiful blog. Possibly through a writer’s workshop. But please do take some quiet time to soak her up. She offers pulsing photography that looks a lot older than it is, original poetry, and abbreviated but completely loving remarks on life. In her own words, she was “born to walk country roads and gaze into vintage skies.”
Periphery  Yes, M Half chose her too and in fact I owe my introduction to this blogger to my trusty ten-four good buddy. Periphery writes with philosophical precision and an obvious appreciation for language. I don’t know how else to say it, but the first post of hers I read had me hooked, as M had promised. It was titled “In This Economy” and spoke to so many important things that I immediately wanted to invite her and a bunch of other soulful people to either a lively debate of hot topics or a pep rally for positive thinking.
New House, New Home, New Life  I am not only a lover of words and ideas; I also drool over homemaking and domesticity, though I am unlikely to share my own ideas on that stuff here. I very recently stumbled upon a blogger who is sharing her remodeling, redecorating, and gardening adventures in Canada. She is also an avid Pinterest-er (love my eye candy) and has generously offered an experienced ear in matters of living apart from your children.
   Mothers whose children live with their Dad are either scarce or very, very quiet about it, understandably. It’s difficult to find anyone who understands both the heart shredding and the need to wait and thrive while they’re gone. I am so happy to have made Heather’s acquaintance!
Honorable Mention,
because this writer enjoys slightly more than the maximum 200 followers, 
but I have come to enjoy her so much:
Bohemian Twilight  Monica is the philosopher-artist with a heart of red and purple suede who generously hosts both the Joy Pockets and Five Senses Tour linkups. She isn’t always agreeable, but she does seem to always be genuine. I found her quite by accident while looking around for some gypsy-style interior photos. I continue to haunt her blog because she offers marrow-striking observations of the universe and poetic photos that speak volumes. I can almost smell patchouli incense when I read her posts.

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   Okay, so those are my nominations for membership in the Mutual Admiration Society, Liebster Chapter. Keep writing, ladies! I for one read everything you publish, even when I don’t have time to indulge in comment trading.

The Pen is Mightier
xoxoxoxo

Sea Monkeys

   Over the weekend, as part of a short family trip to Woodward, Oklahoma,  Handsome and I spent about an hour in Atwoods with his brother and sister-in-law and one of their sons. Do you have an Atwoods in your corner of the world? It’s a retail store found almost exclusively in rural areas, and though they are expanding their product base they mostly sell great stuff for, well, country people. You know, large quantities of deer corn and gun safes and stuff. And John Deere tractor accessories and sparkly belts and baby chicks in the springtime. And pearl-snap button up shirts and live animals traps and ammo.
    And candy and toys and home decor.
    We cruised the candy aisles and collected all the oldest, funnest sugary teats that we could justify with childhood memories. They sell the paper-bagged treats like clove gum, cherry sours, and horehound candy sticks. 
    Yep. That’s for our parents’ generation.
   They also sell plain cellophane bags of those spongy pale orange circus peanuts. And Boston baked beans. And maple thingies. We loaded up on something for everyone and had a grand ole time doing it, as much fun exploring the candy aisles as we did eating the candy itself.
   We also bought a rusty tin star for the house, something that should look good all year long but is a perfect gift to ourselves right after Thanksgiving, when the Christmas decorating is about to ensue. Then we each bought a toy. 
    For ourselves. Because we’re mature, responsible adults.
   Handsome selected a plastic miniature farm scene that includes a modern windmill, not one of the more familiar paddle/tripod windmills we all associate with black and white movies and drives through Kansas on the way to Oz. The new kind. The tall, elegant, white giants that now perforate the Oklahoma landscape sending clean energy to tens of thousands of homes. More on that soon; it’s a big topic.
    For my personal early Christmas toy gift I selected Sea Monkeys. 
   Sea Monkeys were a frequent indulgence for me in childhood, the only mass marketed item I might have purchased or received as a gift more often than Lee press-on nails. Now, the little aquatic babies never really lived that long under my care, hence the frequent purchases. But my grief over the repeated loss could apparently be assuaged by another little plastic tank of Sea Monkeys.
   Maybe I have always been destined to have a farm full of animals, or maybe this mild obsession was an early signal to my dangerous penchant for  optimism. Either way, when I saw the neatly arranged rows of Sea Monkey tanks for sale in Atwoods, all of that weird maternal-slash-Island-of-Dr. Moureau stuff came bubbling to the surface.
   My most difficult decision was no longer what toy to buy but rather what color of Sea Monkey tank to take home. I chose the purple one. Purple is the color of creativity, you know.
   Today I started my kit. If you have raised Sea Monkeys before then you know there is a process and a schedule. Please say the word schedule with me in the elegant European way, “she-shu-ill.” Many thanks.

   Tomorrow midday I will add the “Instant Live Eggs.” This Friday will be the little critters’ first official feeding! They will become the only Lazy W residents whose diet does not support and fund our local feed store owners and their beautiful family. I predict Pacino will be jealous of the attention I am likely to pour over my new babies,  but he’s a tough bird. He’ll get over it eventually.

   I’m taking the Sea Monkeys seriously this time, folks. I am a grown up now, as mentioned above. Since my last foray into this treacherous world of care taking I have successfully nurtured formula-fed baby buffalo, helped with the castration of two very spirited colts, napped on the belly of a horse, and been loved by a goose though hated by a rooster. Surely this new brine shrimp experience will come with a deeper well of skill and wisdom.
   No need to wish me good luck; I think we’ve got it covered.

   Wait, please do wish me good luck after all. This is terrifying.

Love your animals, great and small!
“The Lord God Made Them All”
xoxoxo

Pink Stuff

   Before we go any further, let’s all remind each other and agree that this spot here on the internet is not a food blog. Anytime recipes appear here it is either because they hold special, personal significance to us or I am worried I will lose the recipe and need a way to reference it in the future.
   
   Such is the case with Pink Stuff, on both counts.
   Earlier this week I had a mild meltdown because I could not put my hands on the list of ingredients for this old family recipe. So I desperately fell on my Mom’s mercies and while I waited on her reply I scoffed heartily at my little brother for suggesting I Google it. 
   Google an old family recipe that Grandma Stubbs either invented or graciously received from her own grandmother who probably invented it, are you kidding me? WOW. Some people have no appreciation for the old ways. Seriously. 
   
   Sooo…
   Turns out our family recipe was all over the internet. Strangers have been making this, you guys! I felt so, so, so on display. So infringed upon. What’s next, hidden cameras behind two way mirrors? A reality show against our will?
   Anyway, this recipe is as easy as pie. It is easier than pie, actually, because there is no crust to make perfectly and there is no baking. All you need are a can opener, a big bowl, and the ability to calmly fold ingredients into a pink frothy dream while wistfully reminiscing of family holidays past. And several hours of refrigeration, ideally.
A note about pecans: 
They are crazy expensive this year, 
thanks either to the drought or Sasquatch. 
This photo represents a gallon of gas.
Five Bonus points for the first person to notice 
what’s missing from this ingredients photo!
Yep. Whipped Topping.
   One year, I was either nineteen or thirty-one, I can’t remember, I forgot the whipped topping entirely. All the rich, sweet, crunchy, colorful things were included, but not the fluffiness. I showed up to the family feast with a bowl of overly gloopy pink sludge that nobody could enjoy. That is a major disappointment, because every year only one person makes this for everybody, and everybody looks forward to it in a big way. And we only have it at Thanksgiving and Christmas. It is illegal to make it at other times of the year.
   Funny thing last night was that the whole time I was chopping pecans then snapping photos of the ingredients, I was like, “Huh. Something’s definitely missing.” WHEW! No sludge this year. Only stuff.
   Onward.
Here is what you need:
  1 can cherry pie filling
  1 can crushed pineapple
  1 can sweetened condensed milk
  1 cup coconut (I am pretty sure either kind works fine, I use sweetened flaked)
  1 cup pecans (I used more than that, just whatever)
  1 container whipped topping, thawed
   Gently fold it, baby. Pour, layer, stir, fold, blend the colors, taste it, lick your spoons, give the empty cans to lucky husbands and parrots in your house, do a little dance, make a little love, groove the easiness and luxury of it all. 
   Now wrap the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and slip it safely in the refrigerator overnight or for at least four hours. 
This sample bite looks one step away from gross 
only because it hasn’t set up yet.
Later today it will look firm and fluffy and perfect.
But I promise you it already tastes perfect.
WAIT.
Why did I buy tiny marshmallows?
And who is silently judging me for buying the store brand?
   To all of my far flung siblings and to my children who won’t be with us today to eat this and so many other great dishes, you will be missed. Missed so much I have already been getting all teary and chin-trembly about it. But don’t worry, I’ll happily eat your shares of Pink Stuff. And I’ll give thanks for having each of you in my life.
   To those of you who I am fortunate enough to see today, prepare to be attack-hugged. My heart is full and rich and pulsing with life because of the incredible people near me. I love each one of you and wish with all of my heart that Grandma Stubbs could be here to see how big and beautiful our family has grown.
As far as I’m concerned, she still invented Pink Stuff.
xoxoxo
Mama's Losin' It

I Like to Eat my Turkey from a Big Brown Shoe

   For days now, strong ideas and long strings of words have been swirling delightfully through my mind and body. I have slept soundly every night and woken up refreshed every morning, already surrounded at dawn by the warm winds and bright colors of philosophy and possibility. In every corner of my house I have been ferreting away notebooks and slips of paper scribbled up with eurekas and scriptures that have never felt so real before, with observations about the universe at large, questions posed about conflicting ideas, recipes that feel important to me and so surely I must share them, and overly edited photos that tell long, interesting stories (at least to us).

I found this on Pinterest. You. Are. Welcome.

   But I haven’t taken the time to write this week because things have really been hopping around the farm, precluding me from focusing on any one idea and polishing it into something presentable. 
   We have had a large predator here (probably a bobcat or cougar but almost definitely not Sasquatch) and sadly have lost our Tom turkey, a pair of guineas, and at least one rooster. This means that now all the birds, cranky geese included, have been penned up 24/7 for their safety. This means that they are restless and extra noisy, but in a far removed way. This means that I desperately miss them walking around the yards and gardens. Their soundtrack and fluttering presence are both features of daily life I have come to need. This means that I now spend an extra amount of time in the chicken coop every day talking to them, petting them, and generally listening to them. 
   I have also been fortunate to receive several Green Goose orders this past week, so a chunk of every day is spent sewing. This means that my sewing room looks like an F-5 tornado hit. Thank goodness I have not yet acted on the impulse to replace the solid door up there with a windowed farm house door that is partly wrapped in chicken wire, because nobody needs to walk down the hallway and see that chaos.
   Thanksgiving is tomorrow, of course, so I have been following a torrid series of cleaning chores, rearranging impulses, table settings, cooking, and extra cardio, lest we arrive at the first of December having taken two steps back instead of one more forward. Speaking of stepping forward, I kept to my goal of not buying anything at all new for autumn decorating. Except for two things. But these baby pumpkins were grown here, which pleases my soul. 

   The big animals are all busy growing their winter coats, too. This requires me to touch them a lot more than normal and inhale them deeply, up close and personal.. These are important and time consuming tasks, you guys, and they’re further reasons why I haven’t been writing.

   
   Below is a glimpse of the Thankful Tree which I will be forcing my guests to decorate soon. We will write on paper leaves the things for which we are thankful and hang those leaves on this branch. Friends and family will either love it or hate it. Okay, I will love it and they will love it a LOT. By the way, I have been getting lots of emails from PW begging me for photography advice, because clearly I have mad lens skills, but there just aren’t enough hours in the day. She’ll be fine.
   But the main reason why I’ve not been writing much is just sheer, perfect, mind numbing shock that People magazine has yet again selected the wrong man for their annual crowning of “Sexiest Man Alive.” Bradley Cooper? Not disgusting. But also not sexier than this guy…
   And he has so many incarnations…

   When will we resist the mainstream? 
   Anyway,  there’s a lot going on. I am so happy to be on the brink of Holiday Season 2011. Good things are happening. Love is stronger than ever. Hope is rising and building just like we need it to. 
Wishing you and yours all of your favorite dishes and twice as many blessings!
Happy Thanksgiving from the Lazy W
xoxoxo