Archives for 2014

Marathon Monday: Sing-a-Long Edition

March 24, 2014

Hello! Welcome to another gorgeous week in Oklahoma, the first FULL week of spring. Speaking of weeks, only five remain between now and the Memorial Marathon, so how about a quick update?

Overall I’m doing just fine. My mileage is up to date, albeit it in slightly different configurations than Hal Higdon has prescribed in his Novice 1 Training Program. Last week I visited my doctor for the first time in a thousand years and spoke with him at length about the marathon and other good stuff. He gave me some smart pointers (he’s a runner too, doing his first half this April at the Oklahoma Redbud Classic). He also checked my heart thoroughly and gave me the green light for 26.2. “If I were taking you to Vegas I’d bet the house on you!” he said confidently of my health. So, I guess there’s no getting out of it now. LOL Just kidding, I am really excited! Miles good, health great, attitude through the roof!

I have experienced one strange obstacle to logging those long runs, the ones greater than about 10 miles: It’s needing to tackle them somewhere other than the sandy back pasture of our farm. NOT finding a solution was beginning to feel like a reason to only run the half. And that would be a big disappointment for me, because I have been determined to run my first full marathon in my fortieth year. Personal goal.

So I’ve been looking for…

a track longer than 1/4 mile.
and if that track could please be paved, bonus points! Because the race will be on city streets.
a running buddy for safety, but preferably someone close to my pace so neither of us is held back.
Local running clubs are awesome! But so far my schedule has conflicted with every scheduled event.

Well, just yesterday Handsome found a park about fifteen minutes east of the farm that seems perfect. It is public but not too crowded; it is encircled by a paved one-mile track with some incline here and there; and most days a police officer watches nearby. So the problem has been solved, at least temporarily. To commemorate this happy turn of events I’d like to offer you this story song. Please sing it aloud to the tune of “If You Like Pina Coladas…” You don’t know that song? You are probably too young to read this blog.

Rupert Holmes likes Pina Coladas. Do you? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugdF4vWn3I4&list=PLD230AECEC6B12FA6 — Rupert Holmes likes Pina Coladas. Do you? Click here for the song

All together now!

I was tired of the back field… I had been runnin’ there too long.

Like a quarter mile of torture! Stickers, sand, deer and rocks.

So between a few shorter miles (the marathon was closin’ in)

in the Hal Higdon forums… they said with long runs I could win.

*******

If you like runnin’ on pavement! Gettin’ faster every day!

If you’re just gettin’ into yoga, and you’ve never had a sprain!

If you must always run with mu-u-sic, ’cause your mind plays some games!

I’m the trail that you’ve dreamed of. Run on me and celebrate!

*******

I didn’t think about the llamas; they always watch me when I run.

I simply laced up my Brooks shoes, and in a minute I was gone.

Just fifteen minutes to the new track. I felt suspense and energy.

Could this really be the answer? I thought, we’ll have to wait and see.

*******

If you need to run on pavement, even though it hurts your shins!

If you’re not afraid of wild geese, or the occasional fisherman!

Then this track could be just perfect… It’s a full mile around!

Jut make sure you bring some water, but never pee on the ground!

*******

Now there’s a big world of difference… between a trail run and a track…

Between a private back pasture and a park where

YOU

MIGHT GET

AT-TACKED.

But run a quarter mile at at time? I mean, you just have no idea…

That is far too many tiny laps!

This girl was wearing pretty thin…

*******

If you like runnin’ on pavement! Spending hours all alone!

If it makes you really happy, to see your pace grow less slow!

If a single digit mile is a goal that you have…

Plus a 20-mile afternoon,

Meet me here I’m your track!

Aaaaand… I am out of words that barely rhyme. Did you totally jam that out with me? So three cheers for Handsome for locating a suitable running track! And best wishes to you in all of your goals and endeavors. Try setting them to this tune. It’s way more fun.

If you need me, I’ll be at a bar called O’Malley’s.

But not really.

XOXOXOXO

Friday 5 at the Farm: Cats & Llamas

March 21, 2014

Happy Friday!! Whew. I have to say, this has been a drop dead gorgeous week here at the Lazy W. The weather has been amazing. We have been cleaning forgotten closets and burning off piles of fallen limbs. Running some, reading some, visiting with friends and loved ones, gardening, romancing… This first week of spring has been divine. And to cap it off I’d like to offer an installment of “Friday 5 at the Farm: Cats & Llamas.”

********************

Have you ever found yourself wondering what llamas and cats have in common? I’m here to help. We happen to have four cats and three llamas, and we study them with great acuity. By that I mean we sometimes notice stuff. And let me tell you, cats and llamas are basically the same animal.

Save the drama for your llama. Or your cat. I don't want it. — Save the drama for your llama. Or your cat. I don’t want it.

Proof That Cats & Llamas are the Same Animal

Both are extremely territorial. You have no idea. They know who belongs in the area and who doesn’t, and they are not bashful about dividing the two. While a cat may hiss at an intruder, a llama will spit. Neither is happy about sharing her territory with an intruder, especially if said intruder is a chihuahua. (This happens here at the W much more than I have shared with you guys.)
You can only touch them on their terms, and this includes leashes. Only very special llamas will be led on a halter (Dulcinea and Seraphine recently joined this club, but they only attend the meetings sometimes), and I dare you to put your cat on a leash and take him for a walk. Even short of that, though, both cats and llamas are extra fussy about when and how they are petted. Usually they prefer to do the petting themselves, against you, instead of the other way around. Usually. Again, this is not your call. Your wishes are not part of this equation.
They are oddly discreet about their bathroom business. They only “go” in certain areas, making manure collection a breeze. I only collect llama manure, to be clear. To my knowledge cats still bury theirs. Though I would LOVE to see a llama do this. Anyway, discreet. Fussy. Both llamas and cats are these things.
They fight with their front hands. You’ve seen a cat get into a vicious slap fight, right? Well, llamas do this, too, but instead of stiletto claws they use their giant, butcher knife-sharp hooves. It. Is. Terrifying. Also, both creatures pin their ears back and bulge out their eyes when they fight. Not pretty.
You will never touch anything softer than a cat belly or a llama neck. Period. And amen. Of course, refer to #2 to get an idea of how special it is to touch either, right? So when it happens, soak it up. You’re cuddling a four-legged angel.

********************

Now you know!* Llamas are basically taller, more stretched out cats, with short, fluffy tails and slightly more astonishment in their faces than arrogance. Or perhaps cats are just more petite, shorter necked llamas with far less social awareness. Exactly the same animal, really.

Now on to a glorious weekend. I hope yours is filled with some of your favorite things plus at least one fantastic surprise! I am about to go run my heart out into the cotton candy sunrise, giving thanks for so many blessings this week and so much renewed energy. Life is just too beautiful sometimes.

*And knowing is half the battle.

XOXOXOXO

Dreaming of the Nectar Flow

March 19, 2014

Our Frontier Country Beekeepers’ club met again last night, and as always we had such a great time. They are the sweetest people. (Do you see what I did there?) I always laugh so hard the entire evening, eat too many wonderful snacks, and learn great stuff. Last night, the speakers’ material ranged from Shook Swarms to top bar hives, feeding with Ziploc baggies, and the shifting demand for bees in Oklahoma, versus honey (more on this soon, it’s very exciting!). We also learned more about producing comb honey. YUM. A few hours with these fine people just further inspires me to become a better steward of all that is under my care, including the bees. And I so appreciate that James, our president, opens every meeting with a prayer and a beautiful expression of love for the little honeybee. He thanks God for the chance to care for this important little creature, and it gives me happy chills.

A couple of years ago, my sweet baby named this bee "Fred" before she understood that Fred was a girl. xoxo — A couple of years ago, my sweet baby named this bee “Fred” before she understood that Fred was a girl. xoxo

This time of year is especially exciting, because in Oklahoma we are very likely beyond our last freeze; the pollen is in full bloom; and our first honey flow could happen this month. Experiences beekeepers are now feeding their girls sugar-water and Honey-B-Healthy, and some are even relocating hives to take advantage of blooming canola, etc. Do you want to understand how giddy they all are? Think of how excited I get about gardening season kicking off, then multiply that times twenty or thirty. That’s how excited beekeepers are right now. You could feel the trembling energy in the room last night, and it was contagious.

I toted my Papa Joe’s apiary journal to the meeting last night and let it circulate through the group, just not sure if anyone would be interested but still happy to share. They totally were interested! Of course Chuddie remembers Papa Joe and issued another solemn nod when I mentioned his name, and last night I learned that Chuddie’s wife remembers Papa Joe, too. This is so cool!

This is Chuddie, one of the "Old Timers" of our club. He claims to be older than dirt and has a knack for storytelling that almost makes me cry. Except that I am laughing too hard to bother. — This is Chuddie, one of the “Old Timers” of our club. He claims to be older than dirt and has a knack for storytelling that almost makes me cry. Except that I am laughing too hard to bother.

Another gentleman read through the notebook’s yellowed pages and told me afterwards that one entry in particular grabbed his attention, because in it Papa Joe had described a wax moth problem that he too had endured. “Me too!” I answered with too much intensity, and we laughed. There is something eye-opening and deeply comforting about seeing common challenges and universal conditions. It makes the problem seem less bizarre, more natural. Destructive wax moths in your bee hives are in this particular life category.

Here is a snippet from a journal entry Papa Joe made in early March, 1972. It could almost have been written here in Oklahoma, this past week:

Now it is early March and a few warm p.m.’s in the sixties, and bees are coming in loaded with a cream-colored pollen which is from the elms. The maples bloomed early in February. How long now till the first flow of nectar? The apricots which are often caught by frost are budding! showing pink… This & the wild plum will bloom in one week followed by apples, pears, and peaches. Dandelions & dutch clover are also very early to bloom. This is a very important time as early nectar & warm days help to determine the colony’s ability to build up strong for the big nectar flows.

The coming weeks will be busy and lots of fun for our Frontier Beekeepers’ club. We have a two-day class planned. We have at least one, maybe two additional field days planned for exploring commercial and private apiaries. And of course all the work and creativity that gets poured into individual colonies…. For me that is where the magic happens.

Here at the Lazy W I have a little more construction and painting to do for new wooden-ware, then I am relocating all of my hives to the back field, where my girls (my human girls) used to have their playhouse “fort.” Our bee yard will be near the pond still and well guarded by the llamas, but further away from the vegetable garden and mowing areas.

Dulcinea's trustworthiness with the honey is dubious at best. But I am taking my chances. — Dulcinea’s trustworthiness with the honey is dubious at best. But I am taking my chances.

Happy month of March, friends! Enjoy the changes big and small, the thrilling renewal. Celebrate the flow of nectar, however it looks in your world.

“They whom truth and wisdom lead,

can gather honey from a weed.”

~William Cowper, 18th century English poet

XOXOXOXO

Anticipating Blooms & Miracles

March 15, 2014

The clouds are gathering, and we can smell the rain. The morning’s bright sun has already cooled, but we don’t mind. Not even a trace of wind is bothering us. Birds are singing constantly. Roosters are crowing. Barn cats purring. After a long, hard packed work week Handsome and I have landed exhausted but safe, together at home on one of the most restorative Saturday mornings we’ve enjoyed in a long time. All of our farm chores today are pleasurable, fun, satisfying. The sights, sounds, and smells here are all new life and constant love. Mouth watering stuff.

I cannot help but think all over again about the cyclical nature of life and about how much better we appreciate the springtime after a brutal winter. Like flower bulbs, we gather strength in the cold, dark months. If we survive the hard times, then we reemerge with more beauty than ever before. We greet the longer days with open arms and open hearts, eager to bloom. Our dormancy is put to good use by the Master.

If you’re still waiting for your miracle, please keep waiting and do not be discouraged by the passage of time. Be brave enough to abandon the need for instant gratification. Then on that day when you finally see the first sprouts of your miracle appearing, you’ll be overjoyed! You’ll know that all of the waiting was not in vain. You’ll have built more strength than you even thought you needed. And the bloom will be robust. Miraculous.

Bring on the rain. Gather the clouds. Send the cold, even, if that’s what we need. I’ve planted my seeds and trust You with them all. I’m willing to wait.

Seeds sown like prayers, each one growing at its own pace, to its own fruition.

Handsome has finished his shed organizing project now and is happily tending a midday bonfire just as the rain begins to fall. I’m lounging nearby with a cup of strong, hot tea and a very cuddly barn cat. My face is half cool and damp from the weather, half warm and taut from the flames. In my mind I see every seed planted this morning soon bursting into heaps of delicious, beautiful food or flowers. In my heart I see every prayer, uttered or silent, answered in unbelievable ways. It’s already happening.

“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”

~C.S. Lewis

XOXOXO

Mystery Egg

March 12, 2014

Howdy! So very glad you’ve stopped in one more time. Are you hungry?

Mama Kat has invited us to share a photo from this past week’s Instagram fun, and this one sprung to mind:

The chicken from whence this egg came might need a day off and some aspirin.

It’s basically… an egg. A ginormous, heavy as a boulder, almost the size of my perfectly normal sized hand, egg. I collected it still warm from beneath the feathery hiney of one of our youngest hens. She’s a little white and brown girl named “Other Chicken.” Because on that naming day I was sorely lacking in creativity. Odds are she wasn’t the poor soul who laid it, but I cannot guarantee that. As Other Chicken was doing that day, hens often sit on a whole clutch of eggs that do not belong to them. It’s like they all read Hillary Clinton’s It Take s a Village or something.

Anyway, my online friends all made guesses about whether it was a goose egg or a double yolker chicken egg, and I let this glorious package of protein and miracles sit in the glow of admiration for a couple of days. Honestly, though, I was disappointed nobody volunteered the possibility of dinosaur egg. Come on you guys! Let’s think outside of the nesting box for a sec.

Then a few days later I was starving to death but fresh out of my staple food, which is off brand tortilla chips. So I heated up a skillet with a little real butter and cracked open that dinosaur egg. I’ll spare you the suspense. It was definitely a chicken egg, double yolker. It was deep orange, too, not anemic yellow, and it was dense and fresh and perfect. I ate it scrambled up with spinach and mushrooms.

And it was delicious.

The End.

Archives for 2014

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