Lazy W Marie

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

miracles brewing in the late summer storms

Around sunset one evening last week, a mild storm gathered. We walked around the farm gathering the free range birds, I flaked out some bedtime hay for the horses, and Handsome obliged Klaus with his requisite post-dinner fetch throws. The skies grew bruised and moody, the clouds lowered, and a cool wind combed over us. After such a brutal heat wave and drought most of the summer, these were foreign details, sensations we had almost forgotten.

I grabbed my husband’s hand and said, “Let’s pray for the kids. For everyone.”

We stood in the front yard between the house and the yurt and faced north to watch the swirling, dimensional weather. We continued holding hands and prayed aloud for those closest to us. We prayed for some hard situations at the Commission, too. We prayed for a few dear friends. We gave thanks for innumerable miracles in our lives, both very old and very recent. We gave thanks for this little farm that has survived another extreme weather season, for all the birthdays, for all the fun and hard work and rest afforded us.

We prayed for the kids again.

And my heart lifted.

I got that giggling feeling that so often starts in my hips and rises through my belly and lungs. I let it bloom into a smile while we prayed and watched the Pine Forest and listened to the chickens quiet down. It felt wonderful and natural to be submitting needs and wants to God without begging Him. And in the shadow of the front edge of that storm, I felt revolution coming.

Today more fresh weather rolled in, an even cooler and much gentler rainstorm. I was at the local reservoir running a few easy miles, and the sky grew thick and woolly. The first few raindrops might have been my own sweat, but soon enough the moisture felt cold and consistent. I let it soak me and remembered many of the prayers we uttered a few nights ago. I thought back over the years, of how many miracles have burst forth in our life in what appeared to be an instant. One phone call, a sudden announcement at the office, an email, a visitor. A realization.

Everything can turn on a dime, and that is to be celebrated, not feared.

As we begin a brand new month and likely a new season, my heart feels stronger than it has, maybe, in years. I feel more attuned to Love and more expectant of miracles big and small, and this time in a much happier, less desperate way. Because this is how life is supposed to be. Rich with blessings and mercy. Alive with texture, change, mystery, peace, adventure, and Love.

I bid adieu to August in an Instagram post and my husband said it almost made him cry. I get it. Summer is a fun, free, celebratory time. August contains his birthday, too! And we always hate to see certain chapters close.

But this next little bit will be so good. Probably better in many ways. Maybe with fewer difficulties. Because all the late summer storms are hiding miracles we have not yet seen. Answers that we have sought earnestly and should absolutely expect at just the perfect moment.

As I finish writing this, rain has picked up pace. It is pinging and echoing in the chimney. Klaus is on the concrete floor, snoring contentedly. The farm is, otherwise, nearly silent. Ready for and open to whatever is coming our way.

Trust in the Goodness of Life
XOXOXOXO

indian summer and back again (and 5 friday photos)

An especially lush few months in Oklahoma made the end of August feel like June. The pond was high and glassy, the gardens verdant, almost tropical. All the way through Labor Day we luxuriated in one gorgeous week after another, scooping up a cool, mild daybreak here and there, just for extra credit.

Then we noticed the zinnias and gomphrena fading a little and the basil going to seed, even as the deep green leaves grew as big as your hand. The pond stayed high, but the goat head stickers finally made their unhappy appearance. (They were several weeks late, so we will try not to complain, but this is a sure sign of the end of the salad days.) We eventually halted daily pool maintenance and braced ourselves for the inevitable sight of that 20,000-gallon green lagoon. We knew fall was creeping up, but the afternoons stayed so humid. Pumpkin spice erupted on the scene, too. It was a mixed-up couple of weeks.

I was on the verge of making peace with the season change from summer to fall when the season changed again, back to a veritable heat wave. The wildflower meadows burst again with pollen. Overnight the pepper plants grew heavy with red, green, and purple treasures. The horses grazed lazily with sweaty bellies and swooshing tails. The afternoons were noisy with cicadas, and I was into it. I had even made peace with the grasshoppers, for chewing up my cannas.

 

When my husband noticed a “peak hours” electricity price event and the weather station said we could expect another heat wave, he cleaned the pool with feverish delight. I bought the last watermelon still languishing at the store, and we rallied for at least a few more days of summer. In late September.

Carpeing the diems, you know?

Well, we enjoyed two more swims this past week, and that watermelon was pure, sugary heaven. I made sure to feed the rinds to the horses slowly, knowing it would be many months before another such offering. I saved two big hunks for filling with seed for Shoulder Chicken. We made eye contact, and she understood the importance of this treat.

And now, our second summer is over. Nobody who has lived in Oklahoma very long is really surprised. The temperatures can swing from season to season effortlessly. We just take each week as it comes. Carpeing the diems to the best of our abilities and imaginations.

Today the skies slid opened and poured out all the promised floodwaters. The temperature at daybreak (72 degrees) was probably the warmest we will see for a while. And I am drinking coffee in the afternoon. This never happens when it’s hot outside. Yesterday I added some fall plants to my containers outside and some Halloween fun to a few corners of the house inside. We bought ingredients to bake for an upcoming pie contest in the City. And our bookshelves are loaded with good reading for when it’s too wet to enjoy the outdoors.

Summer 2018 was beautiful, satisfying, and pleasure-filled. We miss it already. I also learned a lot and felt like the work here was well done. But Autumn will bring her own smorgasbord of pleasures and work worth doing. I’m eager to sink into it all. 

“Slow down, you move too fast.”
Simon & Garfunkel
XOXOXOXO

 

sweet sixteen, midweek check in

My husband and I are quite talented at Staycation-ing. Or is it called Staying-Cation? Whichever, we are so good at doing this thing where you schedule time “off” but do not travel. You just stay home (mostly) and do and eat what you want (mostly) and luxuriate in the fruits of your hard earned nest feathering labors from the previous several months.

We tend to reserve a week or so for exactly this pleasure every summer around our wedding anniversary. This July we are celebrating 16 years, and for the first time maybe ever I feel the heft of that number.

Not in a bad way, not at all. Just in a less juvenile way than before. If that makes sense. Almost as if all the anniversaries prior had been tokens or curiosities, or practices, even the milestones like 5 or 10.

Do you remember the birthday from your own childhood when you suddenly felt older, less like a little kid, not quite grown up but certainly in that middle ground between the two? It’s a feeling familiar to that. I know we are no longer a new couple; yet we are far from having venerable tenure.

Handsome and I have expereinced and accomplished a lot together in sixteen-plus years as a couple, so it’s a surprise to me that I should only just now feel the heft of a numerical representation of our union.

Sixteen.

Sweet sixteen.

Old enough to drive in this country.

Old enough to actually marry in some places.

The age when most teenagers begin to work for their own actual paychecks.

Still a transitory age, though. And not an altogether easy one.

The traditional gifting mediums for the sixteenth wedding anniversary are silver and peridot. But we have never adhered to this.

After all, we are saving money by not traveling, right?  One of our accidental but long-standing traditions is to gift a single thing to each other, a treasure for the house or the farm, some indulgent memento that we hopefully always remember as “the thing we found at our so-and-so anniversary!” With some luck we tend to find these treasures at cool, weird, cobwebby places for either cheap or nothing. Or, we reserve our anniversary for purchases larger than we might normally make.

Sometimes we see beautiful objects and take in the artistic inspiration then tackle a DIY for the farm. I like this image for that:

Does the Lazy W need a silver-painted mermaid? Probably.

As of this blog post we have not found our 16th year treasure. I’ll keep your posted.

Back to Stay-Cationing!

Some of our favorite activities are pretty obvious: Swimming and laying out in the (abundant, oppressive, delicious, healing) Oklahoma sun, grilling food outside and generally cooking whatever we feel like from day to day, keeping a slightly less rigorous healthy diet. (At the onset of this week we went grocery shopping together and filled the cart with quite a selection of separate cravings.)

Plus literally the best restaurant food.

Lots of spinach topped with pistachio-crusted goat cheese, mango, grilled chicken, prosciutto, and more. HEAVEN.

We go to the movies sometimes, a rare treat. This week we have seen both Pirates of the Caribbean and War for the Planet of the Apes. Such good films!!

We go running for fun, not training, I mean mostly I do, but I try not to feel guilty about it, and the boys have been joining the sweat fest a little bit too!

We socialize with friends. Sleep in the heat of the afternoon if we need it, especially in our cold and comfy green room downstairs. In fact sometimes we even sleep downstairs at night, like a slumber party. It’s great.

Staycation is for looser schedules, maximum sunshine, indulgent foods, and lots of want to do activity, less have to do.

Several times per day the words sweet sixteen pop into my head.

Happy Anniversary, BW. Midway through our week off together, I wish you all the rest and refreshment you crave. I love you more now than ever.

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.)

 

It’s Definitely Still Summer, Y’all

  Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone! I know this weekend marks the beginning of lots of fun autumn traditions. The season *seems* like it’s changing. School is in full swing for most folks; football games are on every other television everywhere; and apparently Starbucks has started serving their famed pumpkin spice latte again. Don’t even get me started on Pinterest, Hobby Lobby, etc. Not that I haven’t grabbed a few ideas myself… But I open Pinterest and cinnamon-orange wafts up from my laptop. It’s just too much, too soon.

   So, the man made environments we create for each other all tell us it is no longer summer but now already autumn. What does nature say? Maybe not quite yet. Here in Oklahoma the temps are still right at 100. The humidity is high, but the rains are pretty far off. The horses are still sweaty the birds still spend their afternoons seeking shady refuge, doing nothing; and everything is still blooming and producing! Only the sumac has started to don tinges of crimson. Everything else is still a lush, verdant, summery green. It’s still summer!

   The Farmers’ Almanac says we still have 22 days of summertime. TWENTY TWO DAYS before autumn officially begins, folks. That is almost a month. And we all know that autumn itself is in flux. You just never know what it will bring.

   So in protest of a premature fall, I will be wearing all the white cotton sundresses I want, even if I have to wear them once in a while with tall boots or a scarf. In fact I will wear all the white I crave. And I will be laying out to read my book club book. I’ll be tending the garden, swimming, and grilling outdoors every chance I get.

   Because I just LOVE DANG SUMMER SO MUCH.

   Let’s not be in a hurry to see it slip away from us, ok? Let’s cling to every hot, miserable, extended day we can. Grill with me Swim. Pick wildflowers. Take naps outdoors. Watch the summer stars. Count dragonflies in the afternoon and fireflies at night. They’re still out there! They still need love too. Eat as many watermelons as you can find. And fresh basil, while you can.

   The idea that basil will soon be bidding us adieu makes me weepy.

   The only autumnal tasks I’ll participate in THIS EARLY are planting some garlic, starting seeds for lettuce, kale, spinach, etc. maybe a few new trees.

   If your’e not yet convinced to continue enjoying summer… Consider this:

   The Farmer’s Almanac predicts a hefty winter for most of the continental United States. See for yourself right here.  We should expect and prepare for colder than normal temps and wetter than normal conditions, too. It’s gonna be fine, but seriously wintry.

   Remember how miserable you were last spring, after Groundhog Day but before Easter? Remember waiting waiting waiting for that first blush of green? That first daffodil? That first day warm enough to run errands or work outdoors without a heavy coat?

Dormancy has its place in life. Let’s not rush it.
Lets embrace and celebrate the life before us while it’s here!

   Those final weeks of winter are so. Flipping. Long. I was on the brink of insanity last spring, with all the days and weeks of waiting. Every DAY was long. So right now… every day should COUNT.

   For September and early October, then, I intend to squeeze out every last drop of summer. Every grilled meal. Every lap around the pool. Every early morning run. Every weed pulling, even. Because too soon the weeds will disappear, but so will the zuchinni. And the zinnias. And the melon vines. So will the roses and basil.

   Join me, please! Let’s let Summertime 2013 know that she is loved and will be soon missed. Celebrate every remaining week. They will pass quickly. Let’s endure the heat. Let’s endure the humidity and the electric bill and trips to the store to buy chlorine for the pool. Let’s even endure the mosquitoes, friends.

   Because the beauty of summertime is so temporary.

   We can soon enough go back to our fluffy sweaters, orange-clove simmering spices, and pumpkin recipes, I promise. Just not yet.

Happy Labor Day Weekend!
Let’s Swim Through It.
xoxoxoxo