Lazy W Marie

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

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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

holding space, and early march update & a new spin on optimism

In like a lion, out like a lamb. That’s the adage I’m celebrating right now, doubling up on the almanac’s confident assurances about an early spring. My local friends will argue that our frigid air temps of late have already proved that prediction wrong; but it was a brief blip on an otherwise sunny outlook. This too shall pass. Let’s cling to that adage as well, which brings me to my favorite reading material this week: The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle.

Have you read this book, or are you listening to Oprah’s piecemeal interview with him, which dissects his other title, A New Earth? The material is such a luscious reinforcement to all the Buddhism we have been absorbing this winter, all the lessons on mindfulness, stillness, and impermanence.

And I may or may not have mentioned this here: For months now I have been receiving crystal clear direction from God to make space and hold it. I crave space in my body, in my schedule, in our home, even in my intimate relationships, though creating space there has been magically coupled with a new layer of more meaningful intimacy. I tried to rationalize it for a while but eventually relaxed and decided that simply doing it could become my daily practice. It has been lovely, and I am only just beginning.

One funny thing about space is that it tends to fill itself up if we aren’t watching. Physical space, especially. We recently sold one car and rearranged the others plus some gym equipment to other outbuildings and in so doing wound up with a completely blank car bay in the garage attached to our house, the one where I do laundry and have a potting/painting bench. How long did that space stay empty? Not very! We went to the feed store last weekend and brought home 21 newly hatched chicks and 2 tiny ducks. They now live in a heated metal horse trough in that “empty space,” ha! Our days since they came to the farm have been very peep-ish and our whole world is now totes adorbs. This kind of space filling is fine by us.

Let’s talk about the weather once more, and the seasons.

These recent weeks brought us freezing (truly freezing, not just hyperbole-cold-Oklahoma but actually sub-zero) temps and plenty of frost and ice. We fought off the despair of unceasingly gray, gloomy skies, wore layer upon layer of clothing but still shivered, and ate weird food that barely ever warmed us up. The tail end of February is always bizarre, right? Doesn’t it feel longer than all the rest of winter, combined?

Then, on Monday evening, the clouds parted suddenly and the sun shone on the farm just long enough to accomplish a dramatic stab of gold and bronze, fighting off the gloom, literally moments before dusk. We were sitting in the east living room when it happened, and the change in atmosphere deserved its own Vivaldi soundtrack.

Then Tuesday was ever so slightly more pleasant for being outside, and sunset on Wednesday took my breath away. This morning, before seven, I saw the eastern sky do that kaleidoscope twist where all of her pink and apricot colors churned and shone and cast a shimmering mix of lavender and yellow onto the basin of the western sky, just across our pond. It happens some days in a more kinetic way than others. It’s truly magical, and I love it.

Also, our only two adult roosters are fighting a little bit, no matter that they have a harem of seven gorgeous hens to share.

The pine forest has been weighed down with hefty flocks of visiting, screaming black birds.

The earthworms are wriggling into the warmest top layers of soil and compost.

The horses are shedding like crazy.

The bees are foraging on dried manure and dandelions.

And my heart just knows.

What I’m saying here, friends, is that springtime is happening. We knew it would!

All the seed trays, empty raised beds, and future watermelon patches will soon be ready for action.

Until then, more space making, More reading and cleaning and working and loving. More teaching ducklings to swim (like they need lessons) and more encouraging German Shepherds to appreciate every single romp outdoors, because the freeze is over, at long last.

A quick, gentle word about optimism, and this darling snuggling photo of Handsome with Maddie:

At our friend Maddie’s recent high school performance of Shrek, one song stood out to me and actually kind of hit me like a marshmallow sledgehammer. The character Fiona was singing a funny lament about how many years she had been locked away in her tower, about for how very long she had been wishing for her prince to rescue her (insert your own long-awaited miracle at this point). Then in the scene when it finally happens, when Shrek finally comes to release her from her bondage, she proclaims, “I knew it would happen TODAY!”

TODAY. Fiona knew, all those days and years leading up to her big moment, that her answer would come. She surrounded herself with evidence of other princesses and their unique moments of redemption. As her own waiting and captivity stretched on, she may have felt discouraged sometimes but still knew in some funny, weird way that it would happen today. The only detail missing was exactly which today it would be. And so, with that deep knowledge, she never gave up.

Okay, I will leave that with you for a while, to marinate. Please get back with me and share your thoughts. The whole notion that today is all we have, that this moment is all there ever is, that presence and attention are powerful, well, it will not let go of me. And it all leads me to crave more space. And I knew that springtime would eventually happen, that it would happen on some unknown today. And I know that all of our hardest-yearned for prayers will also be answered, on some very special today that is very much worth waiting for.

A final thought about Fiona? She waited, and she trusted, but her answer was still a miraculous surprise. Remember? It was not exactly what she imagined: It was far better. So friends, let’s stay open to the shock and trembling joy of all that is possible in our lives. Let’s crate and hold space for whatever is coming. And then relax back into the present moment.

I love you. I wish you only the best of every detail. Please come visit our baby peeps before they grow up.

“Past and future veil God from our sight.
Burn up both of them with fire.”
~Rumi
XOXOXOXO

may 1: the why of what we want, some daily life tidbits, & 2 lists

Welcome to a blog post wherein I hope to play a little catch-up on daily life as well as highlight some things that are really glowing hot and bright inside of me. I am so glad you checked in today, thank you! I always appreciate your presence here, your comments below and on social media or email, and your friendship. I promise to respond to everything and I promise to write more regularly in May. Lots happening at the Lazy W!

This past weekend we enjoyed a heavy dose of spectacular spring weather. Warm temperatures, abundant sunshine and dazzling blue skies, just a trace breeze. Perfect. We stayed outside as much as possible and accomplished several good, worthwhile tasks around the farm. After physically crossing off the line items on a paper list, I added that scrap of paper to our 2018 memories jar so we could savor it all again on New Year’s Eve. It was that satisfying.

We also tried to walk around the OKC Festival of the Arts but found it way too crowded for the level of relaxation we needed that particular day. Some days are for the public, some days are not. We stopped for a late lunch of Tex-Mex instead. Back at home, I carried a book I’m reading out to the south lawn near the new raised veggie beds, added several cushions to a reclining chair, and propped up my bare feet. Sublime. That day was our first motorcycle ride together for many months, too. We enjoyed all of it.

(I’m reading The Handmaid’s Tale, finishing it up today or tomorrow, so we can start watching season two soon. Book review coming!)

Please enjoy the above random collection of necessities like a giant coffee mug, clean running socks, and a packet of sunflower seeds for growing, not eating.

Remembering the why of what we want, as my friend Brittany recently directed me to consider. I want sunshine and stillness and verdant surroundings. Inspiration and words. Sensual stuff. Bare skin, white as it is. Colors, textures, flavors. New things. Old things cleaned up. Assurances of love between those most precious to me, hope for the future of our little family. Time with our friends and a sense of real and lasting contribution. Art! So much art. Slowly prepared food that really feels good when you eat it. Conversation. Artful, interesting, thought-provoking conversation. Endorphins and sweat, soreness. Goals worth working for. A sense of calm and completion. 

These are the things I chase each weekend, and as often as possible in the days in between. This past weekend was a win. 

On Sunday evening we tried to take advantage of the perfect weather by driving a fun car to the city, but our idea was thwarted by mechanical difficulties. Add that to the list of things that need attention, but it’s no big deal.

We have settled into a pleasant tension between work and play. And between mental work and physical work, too, the latter of which being a welcome release for my husband. He values more and more the satisfaction of seeing his efforts made manifest visibly after a long week of phone calls, meetings, emails, and other stressful but not always clearly fruitful efforts. You know? Office dwellers can surely relate to this. And yes to the good feeling of doing any job thoroughly, slowly, and well. No rush, when possible.

The reason for our drive to the city Sunday evening was to join a handful of other married couples for a monthly “Small Group” dinner. We have been attending since around Christmastime, and we love it. It’s very casual. And very nourishing. Our friends Mickey and Kellie invited us to join the group, which is hosted by Gary and Stephani and includes two other wonderful couples. We are all from different backgrounds and ages, different church associations, and different marital histories. Just different people! I love it! The group is patchwork, yet somehow it feels designed.

We meet one Sunday each month for a meal which our very gracious hosts plan and to which we all contribute. (I now get so excited for Stephani’s Friday afternoon texts about what she’s serving that coming weekend! I love to host friends in our home, and I also love being a guest!)

Stephani always has a gorgeous and seasonal centerpiece on her dining room table (my favorite so far has to be Valentine’s Day). This month, capitalizing on the weather, we ate on their deck. The centerpiece was edible and just so good. 

We eat great food, catch up on life, and trade prayer requests and testimonies about how God has been moving. This group of friends feels safe and warm. Smart and intuitive. Handsome and I have already shared with them pretty openly our family struggles of late, and we know that they pray for us in between our dinners. We certainly pray for them too, and we are becoming emotionally attached to their lives.

Side note: Kellie has ruined me for any kale salad that does not contain goat cheese and pickled mustard seeds.

We discuss Bible verses affectionately, not in a cold or authoritative way. We lift each other up, and everyone seems to leave feeling better than before, vessels filled and strong. 

If the gathering could be a flavor or food of its own, it might be a warm-from-the-oven sour-apple tart with a firm shortbread crust and thinly sliced fruit, lots of cinnamon. The tart would be crowned with melting vanilla ice cream. Sweet and salty, warm and cool, flavorful and filling, substantial. Not a dessert that disappears too quickly. And the thing you look forward to eating slowly, on a special occasion. A dish you have plenty of to share with your loved ones, too, and you probably do not need a recipe to make it. Just time, a few supplies, and lots of love.

Like loaves and fishes, which happens to be what started a great conversation this past weekend. Storms brewing and unconditional trust like your eyes are closed on a rollercoaster and loving God for His character, not just the gifts He lavishes on us. But remembering His works, too. Reminding each other how good and faithful He is. Of His abundance.

This small cutie is Magdalene, our hosts’ miracle daughter and without a doubt the darling of Small Group. She and Handsome shared dry cheese, prosciutto, and flat crackers on the deck just before the wind kicked up to illustrate the stormy sea parable. She also offered him olives and tiny fist-scoops of guacamole, which he accepted then stealthily did not eat. Can we all pause to appreciate that a toddler has a wider range of tastes than my husband? Okay.

And her curls and eyes?? My goodness.

Lincoln, Klaussen’s brother I am sure you remember, came to the farm last night. Too much time had passed since our last Shepp slumber party, and we all are enjoying a really happy reunion. All of Tuesday so far has been spent alternating between several enthralling activities.

List #1, German Shepherd Brothers’ Daily Agenda:

  • Cuddling each other
  • Rough-housing with each other
  • Seeing who can be closest to Mom/Lady (that’s what Lincoln calls me, he calls Handsome “Fella”)
  • Chasing but not hurting the cats
  • Running dangerously close to the horses
  • Putting on a show involving fetch apparatus but not actually fetching anything
  • Eating waffles and other treats 
  • Eschewing dog food in favor of said treats
  • High-step prancing around the yard
  • Sniffing the chickens
  • Sitting on Mom’s/Lady’s feet while she types
  • Jumping on the bed as it is being made
  • Watering the gardens and peeing on all the blackberry vines (separate activities)
  • Getting brushed outdoors
  • Doing battle with the vacuum sweeper
  • Napping
  • Smiling from head to tail
  • More napping
  • Welcoming Dad/Fella home with unbridled enthusiasm
  • Aforementioned continued napping
  • Waiting for treats based on the fragrance of dinner cooking  for the parents

I hope Linc gets to stay several days. We love him so much.

My sourdough starter experiment continues (you can see most of these in Instagram stories). Last week I tried a new slicing-bread recipe that called for warm milk instead of water to activate the yeast, plus extra yeast, and the final product was indescribably soft with a tender crust. So good for mopping up runny egg yolks at breakfast.

Last night I mixed up some batter for overnight waffles and cooked them up early this morning. That was a success too! I am collecting all the recipes I’ve tried this past month and will write a blog post just about that soon. If you have a favorite use for sourdough starter, please send it my way! This is so much fun.

I have been dreaming heavily again. Last week I dreamed I was visiting a group of elderly men and women, a scene not unlike one from the movie Cocoon, and they were all so excited to be moving to the Dallas area. Dressed in floral shirts and visors, they were giddy with excitement to be leaving soon. I told them my Grandpa had just moved to Dallas and that I missed him so much. In the dream, I was crying inconsolably. This put a serious damper on the mood as one by one they considered who would miss them after they left town. I woke up sobbing.  

Last night I had an unsettling but still encouraging (I choose to see it this way) dream about Jocelyn. I can barely articulate it. But I know that God is moving. The sensations are familiar. The dream had to do with readiness and surprise, with changes of location and the false appearance of things, especially social media. 

Whew! So many feelings!

Today around lunchtime I kicked off the new month with 8-ish miles, mostly on trails. My hormones are dipping low today and the winds are crazy high, so it was a struggle but still refreshing. That’s how running sometimes is, and I love that! It feels great even when (especially when!) it’s hard.

I’m not sure yet how far I will run this month, as I have two fun trips on the calendar; but I was happy with how March and April fleshed out, all things considered. I am healthy and uninjured and very happy in my legs and belly and heart and mind, all the places that matter. I am at that place of feeling grateful for every mile and for all of my running friends and the inspiration and support they share. More on that soon!

Which brings me to List #2, Favorite Podcasts Lately, which I save for slow easy days like today:

  • Run Eat Repeat
  • I’ll Have Another with Lindsey Hines
  • Oprah Super Soul
  • Run to the Top
  • My Seven Chakras 

By the way, today is the first day of a new month (doesn’t it feel like we have been waiting on May forever?), and the moon was recently full and those energies are so powerful, and my heart is brimming, spilling over really, with gratitude.

I have to sign off for now. Tomorrow just might be spent gardening with Jessica, which is obviously very exciting! She has grown a little since this gardening photo:

Sweet sleep. friends. I would love to know what blessings you’re counting tonight, what magic the full moon is delivering in your world.

“Despite knowing they won’t be here for long,
they still choose to live
their brightest lives.”
~Rupi Kaur
XOXOXOXO

smack between two equinoxes

I recently finished a book Jocelyn gifted me, Cold: Adventures in the World’s Frozen Places by Bill Streever. The book was unlike anything I’ve read before, smoother than a documentary, more informative than a personal narrative, way more fun than a science textbook, and all of that together. I liked it.

Anyway, it’s about cold places, the cultures that grow there, the implications for the planet’s future, you name it. The book includes all kinds of fascinating lore and weather explanations from around the globe and all throughout history. It also more or less follows the calendar, telling stories month by month.

When the author gets to February he offers some anecdotes and little known facts about Candlemas Day, February 2nd, what we know now as Groundhog Day:

If Candlemas Day be fair and bright
Winter will have another fight.
If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain,
Winter won’t come again.

I offer you this because apparently the groundhog saw his shadow this morning, and everyone thinks that means another long chapter of winter. But at least here in Oklahoma, the skies are dark and moody. No shadows! Also, consider that the Old Farmers’ Almanac predicts the next two months to bring us some moisture, possibly even snow, but overall above normal temps.

All of that and my irises are about four inches high already. So. For the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring solstice, I’m optimistic.

even a false spring

Bring on spring.

XOXOXOXO

 

 

where will you spend this early spring?

We sat in bed yesterday morning slurping our first cups of perfect coffee, braiding together our legs, and fighting off the bouncy and space-invading affection of our 95-pound puppy. Slowly I recalled the overnight thunderstorm (it was glorious!) and hoped that during chores at daybreak I would still be able to smell ozone and see damp flower beds and pastures. Handsome clicked on the morning news, and there he was. Puxatony Phil. The prognosticator of prognosticators. The groundhog of all groundhogs, hoisted up in all his fatness, ready to tell us what kind of weather to expect next.

Low and behold, as by now you surely know, Phil did not see his shadow and we are all set for an early spring. Or are we? No matter what Phil’s prediction, the news anchors are always quick to dismiss the folklore, citing that Groundhog Day is rarely accurate. So let’s compare Phil’s 2016 declaration to what the trusty almanac says. The farmers’ almanac, after all, is correct more than 80% of the time, and the science behind its construction each year is kind of mind-blowing. Here is what I see for our area over the next two months:

FEBRUARY 2016: temperature 50.5° (2° below avg. north, 3° above south); precipitation 1.5″ (avg. north, 1″ below south); Feb 1-3: Sunny, cool; Feb 4-10: Showers, then sunny, warm; Feb 11-13: Showers, warm; Feb 14-17: Rain to snow north; sunny, mild south; Feb 18-22: Showers; cool north, warm south; Feb 23-29: Snow north, rain south, then sunny, cool.

MARCH 2016: temperature 60° (1° below avg. north, 3° above south); precipitation 2″ (2″ below avg. north, 1″ above south); Mar 1-10: Sunny; cool, then warm; Mar 11-13: Rain, then sunny, cool; Mar 14-21: Sunny; cool, then warm north; warm south;Mar 22-24: Sunny; Mar 25-31: Sunny north, rainy south; cool.

That looks like an early spring to me, friends!! And if a chilly morning surprises us here and there, remember what Hemingway said…

even a false spring

 

Start surveying your life for the happiest places to spend springtime, okay? It’s so close.

See you soon.

“When spring came, even a false spring,
There were no problems except where to be happiest.”
~Ernest Hemingway
A Moveable Feast
XOXOXOXO