It’s Wednesday afternoon, and my biggest work is done, miles ran, house clean and quiet except for normal Lazy W sounds. Schedule clear until dinner with friends tonight. I am forcing myself to sit down with a salty snack and cold drink, just to offer a quick farm update and return some emails. Because really, I’d much rather chat with you outside. So would you if you were here.
The weather here in Oklahoma, in case you haven’t heard, is temporarily glorious. So glorious it makes being indoors a little difficult. I get antsy. Warm afternoons, cool evenings, starry nights, and abundant sunshine day after day. The fresh air is intoxicating, so our windows are all open. Curtains billowing inward like a dream then sucking back against the screens with no warning. Rooster crows and buffalo chuffs making the silence fuller, warmer. Sunlight streaming in and colliding with the disco ball, scattering silver blurs all over the living room. I love all of this. It’s like magic, this symphony of beauty for every sense. Every spring I remember just in the nick of time why we live here, just when I was about to start packing boxes and move either to the Equator or the city.
The animals are blissing out, too. Egg production is up from six or seven per day to nine and sometimes even eleven. And we’re getting minty green ones still, which are my favorite. There’s a lot of, um… chicken romance happening all over the farm, so if things go well our little flock could make it possible for us to hatch out some gorgeous feathery babies again this year. We have a greater variety of breeds now, too, so this could be fun.
The llamas have rearranged their pecking order since Dulcinea has recovered from her pregnancy. Interestingly, while she was El Preggo, she was very clearly at the top of that adorable little totem pole. Then came Romulus, then Meh, oblivious to being in last place. (Llamas seem to be matriarchal, which could be why an expectant mother rose to the top despite her youth. This is my unprofessional observation-based opinion.) Now recently, Dulcie has fallen to the bottom, with her baby brother above her and Big Daddy Rom up top. “Where obviously I belong,” he seems to say with his stately gaze. Anyway, she’s doing great. The fall from grace has actually made her more cuddly to us, so we like it. Handsome really seems to be enjoying his extra cookie time with the llama he has always called Little Bit. xoxoxo
Yesterday we were pulling up the driveway at a particularly warm, still moment and saw Chanta napping in the sun. He was all folded up against himself, basking, no halter on his face, breathing with his entire body. The sight was beyond precious. I snapped these photos showing his startled wake-up. The fourth photo, had I managed to take it, would have been him stretching his legs and neck as far as they would go. And yawning. He is the yawniest horse I have ever seen.
Tulips are breaking ground. This is said with a great measure of self control, because as soon as anything breaks ground, I can think of little else besides gardening. This, together with the insanely gorgeous temperatures, makes it difficult to remember we are still finishing up January. About 50 days still to live fully until the official start of the loveliest of all seasons.
Live fully, Marie, live fully, Carpe every single diem.
Don’t waste too much time reflecting on the past or anticipating the future.
Today is beautiful and important.
On that note, I’ll wrap this up and go scoop some manure for composting. I hope wherever you are that the weather is kind to you. I hope if you are still in winter’s bitter grip that you have lots of soup and fuzzy blankets nearby to warm your bones.
Count your blessings. Make the most of today. The days add up.
“A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.”