Lazy W Marie

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

a few of my favorite average moments at the farm

Sometimes a few average things happen here at the farm that take my breath away and leave me buzzing with pleasure. If you have a moment to join me, I would love to read something from your everyday life that thrills you.

After weeks of raking thin flakes of hay from large, tightly wound bales, the moment always comes when the dense core is exposed and everything relaxes. That feeling of my strong metal rake toothing itself into the final thick layer of reluctant dry grass is so exciting. I can feel the breakthrough about to happen. Then I feel the whoosh, the great exhale and collapse of all that necessary tension. I relish the sight of hay falling in heaps and layers to the ground. The core is solid and heavy but manageable, and it tips over with a little effort. A giant cylinder of food for the horses. For a few weeks after this, the hay comes in thicker, friendlier sheets. And I always crave to make cinnamon rolls for someone.

Every sunset and every daybreak is special, and I am always thankful to catch either. I especially love dramatic skies, purple clouds with hot pink underbellies, backlit metallic banks of clouds, streaky sunrays extending further than necessary and exactly as far as they want. I love it when the western sky reflects across the farm onto the bowl of the eastern sky, and vice versa. Our house sits in a way that displays the roundness of the heavens. And I love it when the various colored lights clings to trees and buildings and, at very special moments, animals. Light blessings. Kisses everywhere.

How sensual to walk around the gardens and smell herbs recently disturbed. Someone has been scraping through mint and oregano and rosemary. Someone has made a snack of Thai basil. Lemon balm, tomato vines, parsley. All of it available to everyone. Cats or chickens emerge, peaceful. I would grow a garden just for these silent, fragrant moments.

Every morning after breakfast chores, Klaus and I walk the front paths to pray and lay groundwork for the day ahead. Lately the prairie grasses have ripened into warm colors and many have grown their feathery tassels and plumes. I scout for blood grass and sumac, and he scouts for deer. I love the ever tightening corners where pine trees flank the walkway and threaten to grow into canopies above us. I love the profusion of yellow wildflowers. I love the flattened areas in the meadow where deer have been sleeping. I especially love the joy on Klaus’ face when he meets his “babies” and they leap and sprint away from him with unbelievable grace.

When the weather is just right, hanging laundry outside is a great pleasure. I love seeing bedsheets and towels billowing on clean breezes while working in the garden. I love catching the horses nap beneath the fabric. I love the heavy scent of ozone that comes with us back to the house with that basket full of dry, crisp fabric.

Sometimes I visit the chicken coop and discover eggs so recently laid they are still hot to the touch. Sometimes I check squash and pumpkin vines and discover that yesterday’s fruits have doubled in size. Sometimes the morning glories are still blooming at lunchtime, and woody sunflower stalks that had broken from their own glorious weight are suddenly growing new shoots. These quiet details, all proof of Life that wants more and more of its own energy. Amazing and encouraging.

Happy Thursday, friends.
May you notice and swallow whole
every pleasure available to you.
XOXOXO

rooted & grounded

And just like that, we have leaped across the verdant threshold between seasons. My heart is filled all over again with excitement for the coming gardens and with hope for so many yet-unanswered prayers. I know I say that a lot, about hope, but please know that we also celebrate the brick-and-mortar resolutions, the answers, the rewards of waiting and hoping, all the time. Our world lately has been riddled with both good news (really good news), encouragement to expect more of it, and some healthy perspective about how much worse life often is for others. Gratitude is not strong enough a word to express how I feel about it all. I am in awe of what God has been doing for us and the people near us.

Jessica planting some joyful color in her apartment courtyard garden…xoxoxo

Seeds are germinating left and right. The Peeps have officially outgrown their indoor trough home and have moved to the flight pen outside. Broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage starts are suddenly voluptuous; their neighboring snow peas are tendriling upwards on arched cattle panels; and the Mouse Garden is a thick, highly textured bed of kale. Kale!! The Yukon Gold potato box has sprouted with food, and what so far looks like just green confetti will very soon be full ruffles of spinach, kale, arugula, and fancy lettuces. Last year’s chicks, now fully mature hens, are laying eggs regularly and eating all the wild clover I can pull from our new watermelon patch. The horses are shedding as thickly as the cottonwood is about to be blooming, and speaking of blooms, all four of our fruit trees seem to have kept their precious springtime flowers and are all set up for a heavy season of apples, peaches, and plums.

The house stays warm enough most days, now, even with the heater off and the windows open, to keep a sourdough starter going, and I bake fresh bread as often as we crave it. We stay busy outdoors so much longer these days, with the gradually later sunsets and mild weather, just moving easily and with great pleasure from one task to the next. Klaus keeps us company the whole time, and it is wonderful to find him exhausted instead of restless at the end of a day well spent. (My husband says he feels the same way about being able to exhaust me, ha! Hibernation is not for everyone.)

Our middle field especially is greening up, and just a moderate effort to scoop up and relocate manure is making a big difference. The compost bins have stayed so full that I recently started a second, much larger area for experimenting with a faster decomposition method. But now I think it’s too far away from a water source. Oh well, the honeybees love it!

My little herb garden is waking up from winter, and it is so fun to try and visualize what will return, where the truly blank spots are, how to reshape and replenish the small area. It’s a luscious intimacy, to know a garden for a length of time, to become familiar with its dimensions and habits and needs and wants. To know how it behaves in each season, what is asks of the gardener, what it offers in return. In the spaces between perennials, I am scattering seeds like cinnamon basil, dill, zinnias, and more. By Easter Sunday everything should be erupting there. Already, in this garden and in the areas flanking the vegetable gate, day-lilies and vinca have returned. I am so excited about the gomphrena and Mexican petunia. For now my eyes feast on the Jane magnolia petals falling all over the front sidewalk.

We have been craving to host an outdoor yoga night and will do this soon. The weather is just so close to being reliable, and we have only a short list of deck repairs to make first. Local and interested in moonlit yoga and meditation? Stay tuned!

The first three months of this gorgeous new year have been filled with incredible Love, satisfying work, plenty of restoration and deep breathing, and just good, plain, happy daily pleasures. Life at the W is not without stress and certainly out hearts have aches like everyone’s; but we have laid hold of some powerful antidotes and some very agreeable reminders for each other about what matters most, about how to shrug off distractions and quickly refuse energy siphons, and how to really sink in and enjoy the moments. Magnify pleasures. Minimize irritations. When either of us buckles from some outside pressure, I think we are pretty good at showing each other grace and welcoming each other back to paradise. Because paradise, really, is how it so often feels. For these things and much more, I am so deeply grateful.

One last update, I just finished The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. My sister Angela had recommended it, and I found it to be not just thought provoking but deeply confirming of so much I have already been considering. Lots to discuss if you have read this!

Happy Sunday, friends, and happy springtime!

Rooted and Grounded in Love
XOXOXO

holiday details I want to remember forever

Hi!! How are you, how was your Christmas week? I am still buzzing pleasantly from everything and also trying to take a breath, let it all soak in deeply.

Since, in the best ways, life remains too full for me to slow down and write thorough accounts of each little pleasure, I am seizing this quiet Saturday afternoon to at least mention some highlights from Christmas 2018. It was spectacular in more ways than I can relay. Our home, our family, our circle of friends, everything was drenched in grace and joy. It has really truly been a season of Love coming and going from every direction. Here are some of the memories I hope stay with us forever:

Walking through the Blanchard, OK Christmas parade with our Jedi OKC friends. Handsome was dressed as Batman from the waist up, ha! And he drove his Smokey & the Bandit car, which was laced with twinkle lights. So much fun. Just as the sun was setting, we saw a station wagon pull around the corner, topped with a huge tree and filled with people costumed as the Griswold family. We died from laughter.

I want to remember our fledgling outreach project with the Sweet Sperrys. All those tight hugs from strangers, the ongoing feeling of abundance and gratitude. All the random connections and shared prayers.

How side-splittingly hard my sisters and nieces laughed at Snapchat filters. Hashtag-hotdog-face.

And the fun of distributing gifts with my youngest niece, Kenzie. She is enthusiastic and generous, just like her mama!

May I never forget all the many stolen bits of raw cookie dough I enjoyed while baking so many multiple trays of so many different cookie recipes. All month long, from plain and simple to crazy and decadent. My favorites were the monster cookies and one that resembled shortbread and had orange zest, almonds, cranberries, and coconut. Ok, wait, also maybe the espresso-dark chocolate chip biscotti. I claim to not have much of a sweet tooth, which is true, but when homemade raw cookie dough is available, especially when said dough is loaded with extra textures, I am powerless. For some perspective: the Lazy W kitchen cranked out about 20 separate batches of sweets in a few short weeks. I snuck at least a little bit of each one. That, friends, is a lot of raw cookie dough commandeered by yours truly. I will run so fast in January, right? All that sugar and glycogen??

Let’s hang onto memories of Christmas Eve at my parents’ house and then Christmas Day at the farm. I want to always remember the several hours of cooking fresh Mexican food and the hard laughter and warm cuddles with nieces. I want to always remember how great it feels just to be with my parents and siblings, three generations represented, lots of complementary personalities and deep, abiding Love between us all. And the Saran Wrap game!! My gosh!

I also want to always remember my husband’s idea and the effort he made to surprise my Mom with Chinese food on Christmas Day. She had suggested we all go out to eat at a Chinese restaurant and then see a movie together, but the group consensus was a cuddle puddle instead. So Handsome’s gesture was just so thoughtful. I fell in love with him a little more when he made it happen, never mind that everybody was so stuffed we barely ate any of the food, ha.

How downright excited Klaus got every single time we drove him around looking at Christmas lights. He is so boyish and sweet, it hurts a little.

And his discovery of empty wrapping paper tubes. Over the course of the month, he shredded at least four and I am not allowed to throw them away. He continues to guard the slobbered little bits of cardboard as much as he loves his plush toys.

That house at southeast 44th and Harrah Road. My gosh!! It was so festive in daylight hours, with about fifteen inflatables, but at night? The Las Vegas of rural Oklahoma.

How happy and friendly the general public has been all season. Kind of amazing.

Time with my girls. And Jocelyn texted on Christmas Day!

Time with friends.

Downtime and daily routines with my boys.

Watching the pond and probably Meh through the upstairs hallway window. xoxo

Small Group Christmas reception! It was also our one year anniversary as part of this monthly gathering. We had lots of fun. I need to tell you more about this tiny community soon.

Paperwhites, to me, are a perfect expression of the gentle anticipation we all feel around Christmastime. The watching and waiting, the silent vigil, the growing excitement (ha!), and then all the fragrance when the white petals finally open. God with us, the coming, the fragrance of the Holy Spirit when He is near.

Oh. Guess what. I planted mine late this year, but they still grew tall and strong, green and glossy all the way through Christmas weekend. Then, true to the magic of the season, I saw white tufted blossoms sitting quietly the night Jess came to the farm to open her gifts this past Friday night. Is that not beautiful? I love how God orchestrates the details for us. I could never have arranged that on my own. And? He makes something so good (perfectly timed blossoms) out of my mistake (planting the bulbs late). Okay. Let’s remember that gift.

Amazon Prime. Amen and amen.

Glorious, easy, pleasant, miraculous Oklahoma weather. Good weather just makes everything so simple. Would a snowy wonderland be picturesque? You bet. But in our state, those rarely happen without the attendant ice storm, power outage, and car wreck extravaganza. So I will take the gift of springlike weather very thankfully.

Watching The Neverending Story at home, wearing pajamas, thinking about how beautiful the holidays have been.

Many of the details and lots of our traditions are the same as before. But this Christmas has felt different. It has felt different since summertime, really, and in ways that I suspect will last. This underlying sense of permanence makes every gift more glittering, every day glowier, and every every job more meaningful.

What is left to cause us fear? What is left to keep us from feeling joy? 

I mean it is all a stunning amount of joy, and this is the top of that iceberg. I loved Christmas 2018, and I love even more the confidence that our Joy is planted. God is with us now and always. Christmas cannot end.

“If our tigers and hunters are now gone,
then our futures can shimmer out of the darkness.”
~Mowgli, 2018
XOXOXOXO

managing your thoughts during a life crisis

As happens to everyone in all circumstances and for a variety of reasons, life has surprised us this week. We had for a nice long while been luxuriating in a sweet little season of ease and contentment, and now out of the clear January blue, Handsome and I find ourselves in the unpleasant thick of external stressors and a handful of hard decisions. 

It’s totally fine. I don’t mean to over dramatize anything; but this bears mentioning. One day this week all of it together gathered like a storm in my heart, and I ached and ached for hours. I went for a long run and cried almost the entire time. Maybe it was the surprise of it all. Maybe it was the sharp contrast of emotion, like the pop-up storms we get here in Oklahoma, when the skies have been so calm and sweet. Violent and shocking. I thought briefly that all of our hard-won peace was lost. (Not just for him and me, by the way, but for our most precious people too.)

Of course it’s not. I know better than that by now. But from time to time peace is ruffled and we have the job of maintaining composure and moving forward in Love. Remembering what is true and how to handle ourselves in crisis is vital. It’s not just about not tail-spinning and making a storm worse; it’s about the difference between surviving and thriving in the midst of it all. 

So that’s what I have to offer today: Some lessons I have learned over the years that this week I had to actively bring to the surface, thinking strategies that can transform a deeply stressful, scary time.

 

managing your thoughts during a life crisis sticker

 

Gratitude is so powerful. Take your pulse and breathe deeply. Carve out some time to look around outside of your pain and take stock of all the good things you see. Good things in the world at large, in your life overall, and in your exact situation. Name them. Focus on the most beautiful, amazing, magical details of whatever you are facing, whatever your circumstances are, both abstract and really precise. Even the ugly seeming parts can have hidden blessings, so give thanks for them too. Gratitude interrupts all kinds of anxiety, for starters, which feels nice, but it also has the power to literally transform the truth of things. You can invite light into a dark space with heartfelt gratitude. It’s a choice you can make even before you think you feel thankful.

Focus on the actionable details of your problem then shed all that anxiety and get moving, get out of your thoughts and trust God. I personally get a little paralyzed when faced with a big problem, but it’s unnecessary. That kind of fear is an illusion. Just look at the thing plainly, knowing it is a temporary crisis, just a problem to be solved. Identify the parts on which you can and should act, asking for divine inspiration and direction if needed , and begin. I find a lot of relief in the knowledge that I am only a part of the solution, that God is sovereign over all of it, even the unseen layers I may never see. Trusting Him with all of that makes seeing my part of the solution and acting less overwhelming. 

Ask largely and expect miracles. I have to occasionally remind myself of how much bigger our answers to prayer have been over the years compared to the problems we have faced. We have been shocked by grief, sure, but we have always been preserved in those times. More often we have been shocked by life-altering miracles, and because of this my underlying fear of “What if…” has eroded to almost nothing. I have learned to reign in my imagination accordingly, wearing blinders to the wildly negative possible outcomes. Instead, I force my thoughts forward and train them on wildly beautiful possibilities and amazing outcomes. Remember all those miracles and happy surprises from your past? Call them up to your mind. Convert your impulses to prayers, asking God for things bigger than you could ever do alone. I know in my bones that He wants to do big things for us and surprise us. 

Recognize that weird internal banter that robs your peace and mute it. Do you ever catch yourself arguing in your own head, either with yourself or an imaginary opponent or even just the situation you’re facing? It’s can be like a dress rehearsal, and I suppose that sometimes it can be useful to help you articulate your thoughts and prepare for a confrontation. But there’s a limit to this banter’s usefulness. I have learned to halt it, to silence the nervous flurry of arguments and deliberately aim my thoughts on something more productive. It makes such a difference in my overall sense of peace and therefore in how I can help my loved ones get through the crisis. Remember all that Worry Door business? It’s still very real. Cracking open that door is dangerous. Silent weird mental arguments counts as worrying. When you hear those demons whispering in your thoughts, mute them. You have power over them.  They have no place in your emotions or your decision-making.

Watch what you glorify. Do you spend a lot of time and energy talking about, or even just thinking about, how big your problem is, or how worried you are? Do you feel that common addiction to complaining about feeling victimized or overworked, etcetera? It’s a trap and a nasty one. Problems are real, but that don’t deserve our worship. Stressed is a real and valid condition, but it should only motivate us, not destroy us. Focusing on a perpetual state of being stressed and sad, weighed down by life, glorifying it instead of using it as fuel, only grows it and weakens us. Choose to glorify the healing forces in your life. Spend time and energy glorifying how excited you are about the brewing solutions and the future. Talk about and rest your imagination on how blessed you are, how capable, how far grown. Actively speak Love over the situation. Every detail of it.

worry prayers graphic

 

Thanks as always for checking in, friends. Handsome and I and all of the Lazy W characters are really great! Just taking our pulse in the midst of some very normal life changes. I hope some of this is useful to you for whatever crisis you are facing now or maybe in the future. Because life is certainly full of such stuff. But more importantly life is brimming with Love and beauty and miracles.

“Peace Be Still.”
XOXOXOXO

simply tuesday at the lazy w

Hello friends! How are you? And how amazing that anyone is still here, after so many long bouts of radio silence, haha.

I have landed happily on a Tuesday with nowhere to go and exactly two important deadlines remaining, not a slew of errands facing me nor seven deadlines looming as has been the case lately. That means that for all the delicious foreseeable hours, I get to be at the farm. Luxuriate in home-bodiness. Write and drink coffee. Do yoga when I can’t think of the words. Rub lemon oil on wood furniture, rearrange tablecloths and decorative pillows, and light candles named “tomato blossom” (you cannot believe how good they smell). For today at least, I get to putter around in the flower beds, crawl into the caged veggie beds, and try to avoid frogs. Today I’ll do more than snap photos of all the lush growth outdoors; today I will tend things too. Later, Klaus and I will be in the Apartment sorting through attic contents and clearing the shelves so that we can fluff up that guest bed just in case.

color snapshot may 2016

The farm is a feast for the eyes right now, either just because it is or because I am so in love with it all over again. Handsome and I have been nibbling at projects here and there, getting things more the way we want them, more aligned with how we actually live here week to week, and it’s been deeply satisfying. The funny thing about this kind of progress, though, is that is causes me to want to leave home even less than before. My home-bodiness is getting serious, okay, and more than ever I feel like the days are too short, although really they are lengthening as we speak.

Bring on the summer. But slowly. Let her creep up on us, spread her gossamer veil over us, and linger a long time. Somebody steal her car keys so she has to stay until next year. Let’s get up early for strong coffee and a four mile run. Let’s do cartwheels, write stories, and play in the garden. Let’s swim and eat too much watermelon, watch movies outdoors even if there is an Old Testament amount of frogs here. Let’s count stars and blessings and weave dream catchers out of hula hoops. It’s time for chick-hatching and burger-grilling. Time for convincing husbands to go to the office early so they can come home early and watch technicolor sunsets with us. It’s time for cilantro and basil and honeybee meditation. Cucumbers and horse snuffles and friends and family.

Last night, rather unexpectedly, I enjoyed the deepest, most delicious boost of faith. It was very much like the proverbial well water, just quenching and refreshing in every way. To say that I feel overwhelming gratitude right now is such an understatement. I also feel overwhelming hope, mostly for our children. Our oldest is living so well in Colorado, so happily, that my mama heart is as full for her as the day she was born. And our youngest, against all evidence, is quite near to us. She is held so firmly in our thoughts and prayers that no physical absence can move her. Funny, isn’t it, how faith can change hands and lend from one blessing to another pain… just the right amount of strength.

Faith that moves mountains. Faith has been moving mountains in our world for years.

In my Facebook memories this morning I saw this quote from a few years ago about our tornadoes that year. Some far-flung person had said of our beautiful state:

I know why Oklahoma is so flat. Your faith has already moved all the mountains.

Amen.

Okay, let’s go enjoy all the fresh herbs and rainy skies. Let’s do hard work and read great books. Cook food that nourishes both body and soul. Cuddle pups and romance boys.

Happiest of Tuesdays, friends.

“Slow down, you move too fast.
You gotta make the morning last…”
~Simon & Garfunkel
XOXOXO

(Thanks to Emily Freeman for her encouragement on small-moment living in a fast-moving world.)