Lazy W Marie

BW, part 1: if looks could kill he would be an uzi

April 24, 2022

(Part One of Three, continuing with The People Who Loved Him Into Being and Paradigm Shifts & Looking Forward)

Brandy Loyd Wreath, 46 years old, Choctaw, OK:

Handsome behind the wheel on a country drive…xoxo

Born and bred Oklahoman, youngest son in the blended family of a Pastor-Police Chief and Juvenile Officer, also church preacher and organist, descendant of Land Run farmer and ranchers, small town entrepreneurs, church founders and conservative local politicians and campaign workers, Brandy is a fascinating and ever evolving portrait of both deeply rooted heritage and modern cowboy self determination. It’s a rare and beautiful, very Oklahoman combination of qualities. He loves fiercely, works himself to the bone, and never stops dreaming for the future. Please enjoy a distilled version of our long and meandering conversation!

What kind of potato chip would you be? “Cool Ranch Doritos, because, “I am cool and live on a ranch.”

Does 46 years old feel anything like how you thought it would? “Sometimes, but no, it’s much better. I thought it would be boring and we would eat at Applebee’s every day at four. While I have nothing against a 4 pm dinnertime, life is not boring.”

What are your love languages? “Things and gifts, as much as I hate to admit it, especially toys. Also food and a specific love language not fit for public sharing.” (The not-fit for-public-sharing asterisk occurred several times in our Q&A.) Brandy also appreciates words of appreciation, more than he likes to admit. He just likes to know his efforts are not in vain, and I don’t blame him. It is in his nature to want to make a difference.

In 46 years you have already witnessed a stunning array of history being made in real time (as he sat for this interview in our living room, every headline was about Russia invading Ukraine.) What comes to mind, what made deep impressions on you? He quickly rattled off memories about the Capitol riots last year, the space shuttle Challenger explosion (one of his grade school teachers had been named as an alternate to Christa McAuliffe), Desert Storm, the Murrah Building bombing (this was particularly pivotal in his life, as both of his parents served as first responders and continued serving for weeks after April 19, 1995), September 11, and more. He said solemnly, “All these bad things kind of stick out as chapter markers, they say our innocence has changed.” Then he added, “But the Berlin Wall coming down, The European Union, those were good.” I love to watch his countenance shift as he carefully guides his own perspective.

Brandy breezed through his public school education in Moore, Oklahoma, where he enjoyed myriad sports as well as band instruction in junior high. By high school he chose to pursue more business and professional classes instead of music, but he continued playing trumpet for church and still today has an easy time picking through new songs on our piano. He just has an ear for melody. He can actually play all the brass instruments, plus drums, but he does regret not taking his mom’s offer to learn piano more seriously, as well as his grandpa’s offer to learn guitar. When he remembers them both, his voice drips with affection.

Brandy’s present career is in government with the utilities industry. He serves as Director of Public Utilities at the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, but he provides more support to the agency and the people there than his title can possibly convey (those are my words, not his). He cares deeply about the agency and industry as an interconnected organism, and he has a talent for developing talent. This and more shine through in his long-cultivated professional relationships as well as in his team’s results year after year, crisis after crisis (again, my words, not his).

Does your career reflect what you thought you would be doing at this point in life? Is this what you wanted to be when you grew up? He laughed, “Not at all. Not in any way, shape or form.” As a little boy, Brandy wanted to be a race car driver and a banker. He got to be a banker already, which he said was horrible. So far he has not been a race car driver… legally.

This Commish job is nothing like what little red headed Brandy from Moore, OK, dreamed of doing. And yet here he is, excelling and building his division in ways that only surprise people who don’t know him. His knack for managing people as full spectrum human beings, not just resumes, makes him effective, not to mention his deep concern for fairness and transparency. (These are my words again. He will groan when he sees this.)

How did your education prepare you for what you do now? “My education? I don’t really think it did. I think that what prepared me for what I do was the way I was raised.” He spoke so gently of his upbringing, it conjured in my mind dozens of little boy photos and stories I have heard so many times over the years.

He became animated, almost defensive, definitely proud: “Being born into service and politics and respecting government. You know, I wasn’t raised in a house that complained about government all the time. I was raised in a house that appreciated the sacrifice. I was raised in a house that acknowledged people were doing the same for less money, or for no appreciation. I was raised in a house that, someone ran for public office and I saw what people did, even back then, how they were treated just for trying to serve. I was raised understanding that people are just really ungrateful, but that someone’s got to do it. So I think that it’s helped me in my role, to be able to endure that. Because I was raised with people treating government that way. Even 30, 40 years ago, people treated government this way. It may not have been on social media, but people said it everywhere you went. I remember hearing comments when Dad was Mayor. As a little kid. I remember comments at coffee shops.”

Brandy illustrated his Dad’s triple-threat career of being Councilman and Mayor of Moore, running an auto body shop in Moore, and also maintaining law enforcement hours as Chief of Police in Hallpark, all with a bonus side of helping to found a church. Brandy’s admiration for Harvey is always palpable. But he describes it all as service. “It angered me as a kid, long before I was in government. I know that gave me an appreciation that we’re there for more than money.”

Brandy also believes that government work is a privilege. “It may not get you rich, but it takes a calling.” He likes to include in the concept of public heroes those people who “sacrifice their amazing skill sets to try to make the world better.” He selects his employees based on a willingness to make meaningful contributions, rather than people obviously seeking an ego-boosting job or immense wealth. He seeks after people seeking to make a difference. He offered this about his management experience over the years: “I’ve had hundreds of employees (with a) background (not) great for this job. I think the way I was raised made me appreciate (this job) more.”

To be clear, his college education did weigh heavily in math, science, business, and ethics; and his years in banking gave him experience and licensure in the stock market. He certainly acknowledges that practical foundation. But what drives him and keeps his momentum strong is how his values were formed, by his upbringing.

I asked him what might be next in his career. His answer was so honest, so calming and satisfying, that it made me hope everyone can find a path in life where they can work so steadily, and with such satisfaction: “I honestly don’t want to do anything different; I just want to do this better. I like what I do. I want to appreciate it more. I want to find ways to get more people to appreciate it. That’s when I will feel successful. When there aren’t people complaining about things they should be saying thank you for. You know, that would be a great day. So there’s still plenty to do now before I worry about what’s next frankly. ”

I had already planned to ask him about how he might advice young adults just starting their careers, or high school and college students planning a brand new path. His answers about his own path were deeper than I expected. He provided more than a scholastic guidance counselor might, and I was equally delighted when I finally asked: What advice would you give to high school or college students, or to any young adult planning their career path? He broke down a bit, seemingly lost again in some nostalgia. “Take more time learning from the people that are around you. The classroom is great. I would not detract from the great teachers or professors I had. I mean they were incredible, and they taught me a lot. But the real education I got was from the people right there, all day, every day. The amazing things that I saw my parents doing and involved in that I took for granted as a kid. Maybe I was lucky.”

He gathered his emotions and continued, “Find people in your life. See the amazing people around you. Start having some wonder about the people who are right there. Look to those people and learn from them. College is great, but that is not what’s gonna make you different.”

Describe your ideal day off in winter: “Comfy clothes, whatever food I want on tap, TV, a cuddle, pet my dog. It’s a little gray outside instead of fake sunshine that tricks my mind into wanting to do something productive or be out and about.” We talked about how he wants nothing to be broken or in need of repair or construction, how he wants the office to leave him alone, and how he hopes nobody needs him for that day. His body relaxed into the leather couch as he affirmed these requirements.

Describe your ideal day off in summer: “Sunshine, swimming pool, bikini (he quickly clarified that the bikini is for me, not him), a steak, and then air conditioning to come inside to at night. And again work not needing me, no one else needing me, also definitely nothing broken.”

What recharges you, what restores you to feeling like yourself when you are depleted? “Easy answer? Laughter. True recharge is just to enjoy, be happy.”

For all his math-mindedness, Brandy has one of the richest artistic streaks I have ever seen, and he creates and solves problems prolifically, with bendiness and inventiveness. I asked him to distinguish between art and creativity: “Creativity to me is something that just feels good to do. Like I feel I’m creative, but to me art is something other people can enjoy, which does not feel like my bag,” he laughed that off. He asserted that art “is done for other people to enjoy,” whether it’s music, the spoken word, paintings. “That’s how I see it anyway.”

I asked him about favorite styles of art, and his answer was quick: “Probably most powerful is music.” He comes by this honestly. His mom, Judy Wreath, was a talented musician who raised him on all things piano and organ, Elvis and Beethoven, and she encouraged him to practice his own music, in church and beyond. “But I love almost all of it. Can’t think of any art I don’t enjoy.” His favorite music? “It’s impossible. I love all music. Just depends on the mood. Classical, country, rock, rap. Honestly there are days that it’s all the favorite, depending on the mood, the activity.”

What are some of your favorite personal creative projects? He quickly nominated the newly constructed Batmobile as his favorite. “It’s not traditional but a lot of heart and art got put into it.” He also loves his simple welded green Dino, something he had always wanted but couldn’t afford from Sinclair, and he is still planning to add more to it. He mentioned the colorful skull mural on our big barn. Brandy also greatly enjoyed designing and building all of our wooden easels for Outreach painting nights. He said that project was maybe more fun than the painting event itself. “Doing things to prepare for fun ends up being a big part of the fun.” Probably still in its infancy of usefulness is the yurt, another favored Pandemic build. One day we added huge lettering to the canvas roof, words like “healing” and “you are loved.” They are big enough that maybe Mediflight helicopters flying over could see them. Knowing the words are there for strangers is a precious feeling.

Which was your favorite Star Trek Series? (We have over the past few years worked our way through each of the spinoffs in storyline order, as opposed to production order.) He said, “Probably Enterprise, because it was innocent, and while they had technology, they weren’t fully dependent on it yet. They had to be problem solvers. And I really liked the captain, Archer. Kinda cowboy, kinda just get it done attitude. Not a womanizer like Kirk, not pretentious like Picard, he just wanted to get things done. He took care of his people.”

Ok but why do you always root for the villain in a movie or television show? His answer was shockingly thorough and worthy of an entire college class on either obvious psychology or anarchy; it’s often hard for me to know the difference. He listed as his irrefutable criteria for favoring the Bad Guy, four common traits of the best characters: 1) Villains tend to live more genuinely, being unapologetic about what they want. 2) Villains do not behave in polite, inefficient ways. 3) Villains usually dress cooler, specifically wearing lots more black. And, 4) Villains have better cars.

My husband went on to provide a litany of supporting stories as evidence. “Skeletor was always laughing and having fun, and I mean Jedis were wearing bathrobes, so…” His shrug and unblinking expression dared me to pull apart his answer. I chose to let it sit but circled back to it later, when we discussed The Walking Dead. We also circled back to cars.

What would you think if someone saw you as the villain in a story? He shrugged again and smirked, “Oh well! I must be being very efficient!” We both laughed, him confidently and me a bit nervously. I shuffled my papers before moving on.

“The Law of Attraction’s Not Real, Babe.
Mitt Romney Wanted to be President Real Bad.”
XOXOXOXO
~Brandy Wreath, innocent dreamer
and shameless pragmatist

Check back throughout the coming days for parts 2 and 3.

scarletta jones, calf extraordinaire

April 4, 2022

On Friday, March 4th, our farm-ily changed in a wonderful, dramatic, and unplanned way.

Earlier that week, a colleague of Handsome’s told him about a little calf recently born in western Oklahoma during one of February’s worst ice storms. The calf, abandoned by an inexperienced mother, was discovered alive but partially frozen to ground. The rancher who rescued her brought her indoors to thaw out beneath blankets and in the warmth of a utility room. He and his family nursed her back to health for about three weeks, named her Scarlett for her pretty red coat, and fell hopelessly in love. Unfortunately, keeping her long term was untenable.

Fast forward to my husband hearing the heartstrings story, a gentle, chiding temptation relayed to me, one Mardi Gras party filled with upbeat declarations about raising a calf, and a tentative drive to western Oklahoma to evaluate the situation.

Here is the situation we found:

We both fell hopelessly in love with this fragile, trusting, beautiful little creature. We had already discussed all the logistics of keeping her and helping her convalesce, and we had made valiant efforts to adjust our expectations, to temper our sheer joy at meeting her for the first time. Her frostbite injuries were pretty severe, after all, and we were told clearly that she had no guarantees of longevity.

Our agreement was to do everything in our collective power to do two things: 1) Help her heal if possible and 2) Give her a fantastic quality of life at the Lazy W for every single day that she could live.

So we memorized the rancher’s warnings and instructions. We said our happy goodbyes and shook hands too many times. And we loaded up.

We drove home with tiny little Scarlett, unbridled, riding in the extended cab backseat of a pickup, cushioned by three quilts and a rubber mat beneath. Those few hours will live in our marital memory forever. Scarlett mostly napped, but occasionally she would stand to investigate her surrounding, snoot our shoulders a bit, sniff our necks, and look out the window. She did have one little poop accident, ha! But we were prepared, and it was not a big deal. When we stopped at a gas station about halfway home, Handsome lifted her out to see if she needed to stretch her legs. She wobbled around confidently in the grass and surprised a man nearby who was walking his Labrador.

When we got back to the farm and disembarked, Klaus saw her and lost his ever-lovin-mind. Rest assured that he was as gentle as we knew he would be. Scarlett met him willingly then wandered around the chicken coop and even gave a few jumps and skips after that long ride. We were ecstatic. I took that teeter totter frolic as a sign that she was happy to be here with us.

The next few days were a beautiful, effervescent adventure of farm-ily Love, pure and simple.

We mixed formula bottles and discussed with measured intensity the very most perfect temperature they should be and the very most perfect method we should use for achieving that temperature. We crafted little hay-and-blanket nests atop soft yoga mats (she slept in the garage near us for a few nights) and found new and improved ways to make her comfortable every day, depending on the changing weather. We watched and sanitized her wounds carefully and were terrified the first day on of them split open. We spent quiet time with her, sang to her, took photos of Every. Little. Thing. And texted each other things like, “She just pooped so much!” or “She’s awake and happy!” or “She just sucked on my hand so hard it cracked my knuckles!”

Handsome arranged one of our security cameras on her pen, and one day he checked on her remotely so many times I joked that he should have just stayed home and claimed Family Medical Leave Act, as if we had a newborn baby. Ha.

((scarlett resting near the earliest daffodils))

Speaking of my husband, I must credit him for doing so many of the difficult jobs to keep Scarlett healthy. He has given her the antibiotic injections and done the wound dressings. He has physically carried her in his arms, even as she has gained a considerable amount of weight (which is a big, happy victory, of course!). He has done the unnerving research and talked to vets and ranchers with similar experiences and wisdom to draw on. It has been this man’s ongoing, loving effort that has made Scarlett’s first month with us so thoroughly sound and well informed. I know that every effort is being made to help her, and I know we are making every decision day to day with Love at the center.

He also shares bottle duty once in a while.

((she follows us around her pen for a bottle))

Gradually, Scarlett has grown accustomed to our feeding time rituals and responds lusciously. She has grown so cozy with Klaus that she often milk-smears his great torso and snuzzles his face. Once she tried to nurse his German Shepherd snoot, which absolutely terrified him. Scarlett has explored the herb garden and rested with our earliest daffodils. She has listened to me read books aloud and done yoga with me in the clover on especially warm days. She has gained WEIGHT, as mentioned above. She watches the bachelors cruise past and investigates cats when they approach nervously. I have watched her placidly watching the sky so many times, it reminds me to do the same. Her outdoor habitat includes a partially enclosed wooden shelter filled with hay. When she is done eating or tired of playing, she calmly beelines straight “home.” One day we had her on the opposite side of that shared garden wall, and she beelined toward the space, aimed at her unseeable pen, which we took to mean she was done playing. She sleeps contentedly there and emerges at will to sit in the sun or, as she did this weekend, watch the moon wax on a clear night. She is her own person, and we love it.

One month. (Thirty four days, by the time I post this.) We might have only enjoyed a few days with her. Along the way any number of things could have brought on infection or pain so great we could not justify keeping her for ourselves. Or something else terrible. We have known all along that every day was borrowed, but we have been given a full, gorgeous month with this sweet baby, and we are so thankful.

((as I snapped this selfie she reached up and licked my phone))

There is so much to celebrate. Scarlett fills our farm with such a new dimension of innocence and Life Force, it’s miraculous. Her appetite is strong, allowing her to take on thousands of calories useful for healing and growing. She has remained infection-free despite so many open wounds. And she is bright, alert, curious about the world, and extravagantly affectionate. She appears, in every way we can perceive it, to be one hundred percent pain free. She even vocalizes happily!

About two weeks into her new Lazy W career, Scarlett moo’d! She moo’d a lovely moo. She has a deep, warm, resonant voice that totally caught me by surprise the first time I heard it. I texted my husband, updated my parents and siblings via group chat, and probably put in on Facebook, I don’t remember. It was so exciting to hear her musical voice just for a moment, and several times since then both Handsome and I have heard it and delighted in it.

((scarlett exploring the dormant herb garden))

Everything about having her here is a wonder and a delight, but there are still serious concerns. Scarlett’s frostbite injuries are healing, but as with any kind of healing that has meant a few steps forward and a few steps back. The very end of her pretty tail fell off, leaving plenty of the bone-in tail for us to embellish later with fly-swishing prosthetics. Her hooves have released in bits, causing her to relearn how to balance and walk. Her flesh is sloughing off sometimes, only to grow and close again. Most upsetting, part of one of her hind legs fell off in her sleep, which we certainly knew could happen based on the hardest line of frostbite, and we believe the same will happen with the other hind leg. But true to her spectacular survival form, Scarlett is adapting quickly. She is learning how to pivot on her bandaged hoofless leg and take careful steps, still able to stand for her bottles and navigate the grassy enclosure on her own. We do help her when she seems to need it but know that the more she does for herself, the better.

For all of these physical affects that could be absolutely horrifying, we remain grateful. She in infection free, seemingly comfortable, playful, alert and curious, ravenously hungry, and just plain sweet and scrumptious.

We are overwhelmed by all the Love flowing through this experience. We still cannot predict how much time we will have with her, but gosh our mission remains clear: To help her heal as much as possible and to give her the best possible life experience, day in and day out, for as long as we have her.

I feel like it’s going to be a long, magical life.

We want to thank all of our friends and family for praying for her. We believe in antibiotics and in focused medical care and in the actual power of Love and affection. We believe in good nutrition and sunshine and rest to heal any physical creature. Everything counts. But prayer binds it all together and amplifies every human effort. I know in my bones that prayer has tapped into Scarlett’s will to live and sparked her already lovely disposition to survive in her own beautiful way.

A dear friend of our ours said,
“I’ve never prayed for a calf, but I will.”
XOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm, april 1, 2022

April 1, 2022

Hello friends, and happy Friday to you! Spring has 100% sprung at the farm, and I am staying pretty busy these days. As usual I have more stories to share than time to write them, but how about an old fashioned Friday 5 post, just to timestamp?

(1) SCARLETT: As of today, our precious adopted calf has officially been with us for four weeks. I could tell you at least thirteen stories from every single one of those days, she has so generously filled our home with love and dimension. She has the sweetest, most trusting, most innocent spirit (with eyes to match), and her frostbite injuries don’t seem to faze her too much (more updates on her in a separate post). Happy one month at the W, Little Miss!

(2) GARDENS & PROPERTY FACELIFTS: I can say with confidence and excitement that spring has sprung here. The redbuds and fruit trees are frilled with bright, tissue paper blossoms, the tulips and daffodils are showing off their Easter best, the hydrangeas and blackberry vines have sprouted tentative little green leaves, and one room of our house is overtaken with seed trays, heat mats, and grow lights. The seed sowing, misting, watching, reorienting, and misting again has been fun. I love the rush of “new life” energy this time of year. Outdoors, besides garden cleanup and planting a few beds of leafy greens and snow peas, I have enjoyed flipping, emptying, and refilling the three compost systems as often as natural decomposition allows it. As the vibrant colors of spring unfold, it’s the perfect time to consider how garden services can elevate your outdoor space even further. Whether you’re looking to create an enchanting flower bed or need assistance with landscape maintenance, professional gardeners can bring expertise and creativity to your gardening endeavors. They can help you choose the right plants for your climate and soil, ensuring that your garden thrives throughout the seasons.

Additionally, if you’re diving into composting like I am, experts can provide valuable insights on maximizing your compost systems for richer soil and healthier plants. Embracing this vibrant season and collaborating with knowledgeable garden services can enhance your experience and the beauty of your surroundings. For more information on how to get started with your gardening project, Visit Site to discover services tailored to your needs and aspirations.

A few days ago I discovered baby snakes had hatched in one compost bin, which is always a sure sign that warmth is here to stay. Handsome has been moving sapling pine trees to a new wildflower meadow for a privacy screen, and he is reconfiguring some of the pathways and driveways leading from the gravel drive to the lawn near the yurt, hoping to make circling through easier and prettier. Also, on a whim last weekend, he painted two large garage doors glossy black, to match other accents on our house and car shop. It looks so much better, I can’t believe we didn’t do that years ago! Love the black with our turquoise front door and lots of garden color, especially right now while the Jane magnolia is in bloom.

As the garden continues to flourish and the outdoor spaces transform, keeping everything tidy becomes an important task. Garden cleanup involves more than just removing dead leaves and debris; it also includes ensuring that every corner is prepared for the new growth. Just as I delight in nurturing my garden, I also appreciate the efficiency of professional cleaning services. For instance, GDI services offers specialized industrial cleaning solutions that can tackle the toughest challenges, ensuring that spaces remain pristine and functional. Their expertise ensures that both indoor and outdoor environments stay fresh and welcoming, allowing me to focus on enjoying the beauty and bounty of springtime.

(3) SHEPPS: Velvet and Lincoln are visiting the farm this week, and we have been having some fun! They are all aging slowly and appreciate a good nap (as pictured below), but between naps they still play and romp with lots of puppy energy. Velvet has delighted us with a brand new surge of affection for Handsome, a privilege for which he has been bargaining all these (nearly) seven years.

(4) BOOKS: Because I am elbow deep in two heftier than usual writing projects, I am not reading anything new right now. Instead, in spare moments, I am rereading chunks of The Well Gardened Mind by Dr. Sue Stuart Smith. Chapter six is especially mouthwatering, all about the culture of gardening versus farming and the value of growing things for pleasure before necessity. Gardening to thrive, in other words, not merely survive. It’s a theme popping up everywhere I look lately, and it feels important. In a few weeks we will be hosting a dinner discussion for The Book of Hope. Very excited about that.

(5) CAR SHOW: Last weekend we (meaning my husband, ha! but I did bring donuts and a picnic and keep Klaus entertained) helped our friend’s daughter and her college group host a charity car show in Edmond. It was the most beautiful day to be outdoors, and we so enjoyed seeing car show friends we hadn’t seen in a while. He trailered the Batmobile fir display, too, which is always a good time. The group did an excellent job pulling everything together, and they raised several hundred dollars for their school’s campaign to benefit the Children’s Miracle Network. Hopefully it was the first of not only their ongoing car show efforts but also our own packed car show season. We have really missed it these past two years!

Okay friends, what’s going on in your world? Are you primed and ready to grow something beautiful this year? Are you deep cleaning your house or maybe wrapping up spring break? What are you reading these days?

Thanks for checking in. See you soon for Scarlett stories and a brand new interview.

Redeem the Time
XOXOXOXO

checking in post equinox

March 21, 2022

Friends, happy springtime. We made it! Barring the very real possibility of a frosty morning here and there, Oklahoma is on the cheerful upswing towards warmth and rebirth. Today we are drinking in a much needed gentle rainfall, windows open and a cleansing breeze combing through our senses. Clover patches are overtaking the dead lawns. Trees have leaf buds dotting their naked branches. Daffodils assure us that Old Man Winter had his rightful turn and is once again retreating.

Gardeners everywhere are either tending tray after tray of seedlings in their warmest interior rooms or already raking clean their flower beds and ruminating over their raised gardens for planting this year’s treasures. Will food prevail in 2022, to combat the price of groceries, or will more people grow flowers to celebrate a return to life and liberty? How will you pursue your gardening happiness?

((basil sprouts indoors, grown from last year’s seed))

For me, the answer is both, with a heavy lean to all things kitchen. I am also very excited to be actively mentoring a few friends plus Jessica and Alex for a big round of first time garden growers. This is a life pleasure I never knew to anticipate! Maybe the only thing more fun than growing my own garden is helping loved ones grow theirs.

I hope you’ll tune in again in the next few days. I have some stories to share about Miss Scarlett, our rescue calf. I have been sharing quite a bit about her on Facebook and Instagram, but right here on the blog will be a fun place to record more detailed updates for posterity. I also have a brand new interview to share, this one not about Pandemic, and the subject is our very own Handsome, aka BW, aka Farm Daddy, aka Director and Sir and brother and friend to so many. My husband!! I am so excited for this project, but I want it to be clean and sooth when I share it.

Until then, I will be writing stories and potting up seedlings, cleaning oak-leaf-filled garden beds and scrubbing dirty concrete floors. Feeding chickens and filling compost boxes, definitely making bottles for an unbelievably sweet baby cow. Keeping Klaus entertained but not reading much, not this week. In spare moments I have been rereading highlights from The Well Gardened Mind and drawing all kinds of fresh inspiration from that. I’ll find a new book once these two writing projects are complete.

What are you up to this week?

“The return of spring each year
can be endlessly relied on,
and in not dying when we die, we have a sense
of goodness going forward.
This is the garden’s most enduring consolation.”
~Dr. Sue Stuart Smith
The Well Gardened Mind
XOXOXOXO

cultivating hope & beauty, mari’s pandemic story

March 13, 2022

In early February, 2020, Mari was planning a 50^th birthday party for her husband Tony. Though well plugged into the news, they didn’t yet feel that the new flu-like virus was anything to worry about here in Oklahoma. “There had been other pandemics that happened and never quite hit me where I lived.” So they kept their plans, and a small group of loved ones gathered at their home. It was supposed to be the first in a long list of milestone celebrations that year: Tony’s 50^th birthday, their two kids’ 18^th and 16^th birthdays, the anniversary of Tony and Mari’s first date (which is on Leap Day, so they only get to celebrate it every four years), and high school graduation and the start of college for their oldest. It was going to be an extraordinary season for this tight knit family. “2020 was such a year of milestones for us, and we cancelled a lot.”

Shortly after that party, Mari and Tony were enjoying a regular monthly date night with friends at Osteria, an Italian restaurant in Oklahoma City. She imagines she probably ordered a cheesy baked pasta dish. They were excited and getting geared up for a much anticipated Spring Break in California, a family trip to celebrate Spencer turning 18 and soon graduating high school.

But as news reports about covid-19 gained momentum, anxiety built nationwide. The tension crept closer and closer to home. Things began to feel very different, and Mari and Tony made the difficult decision to cancel their family’s trip. “Things were starting to ramp up and get serious; we were all wondering if some semblance of social distancing was enough. Soon after, it seemed like everything changed completely.” Just two days after deciding to stay home, the state of California entered lockdown. “It felt really real then.”

((Mari is a noticer of quiet, unusual beauty))

Being a military family accustomed to deployment and all kinds of emergency management protocols, Mari and Tony had no trouble slipping into gear when Oklahoma shut down. They are smart and responsive, and they fell easily into their new, necessary routines. Mari’s job transitioned immediately to full time remote work, which was perfectly conducive to Spencer and Marcus both tackling a brand new online high school schedule. The family dog, Trixie, seemed happy to have everyone home, but Mari said, “Sometimes I feel like she looks at me like what are you still doing here?”

Tony was the only one of the group who still had to physically be at work every day, so he was designated as the family shopper. He remembers his first pandemic shopping trip being overwhelming. “People were hoarding toilet paper and hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes, he was shocked,” Mari said. “We started buying a pack of toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels, cleaning wipes, and hand soap every time the stores had a full stock. Not hoarding but keeping a little bit extra on hand.”

Their first covid masks were crafted out of flannel by a friend. “It felt like such a novelty!” Gradually they started ordering more masks online, and now they all have extensive collections.

Lockdown stress snacking included what also became one of many quarantine hobbies for Mom: Home baking! She threw herself into experimenting with cookies, cakes, bread, and tarts, with special mention for a lemon-olive oil tart. She also perfected her schnitzel and pork carnitas recipes. “Baking is good stress relief. Initially, wine was my go to stress reliever, but I quit drinking during this pandemic year, which was not planned but just kind of happened.”

Something special this busy Mom accomplished for herself during pandemic was to train independently for her first half marathon. Prior to shut downs, she had already publicly declared her intention to run “Half by Half,” meaning a 13.1 mile race by age 50. She wasn’t going to let a global pandemic stop her, so she and Tony trained that entire spring and summer. Then in the fall, when the virtual race dates rolled around (both the in person OKC Memorial and Tulsa’s Route 66 were cancelled), Mari successfully completed not one but two virtual half marathons. With her husband Tony’s support and motivation even when knee pain interrupted his own running, she met her goal of running each in under three hours. She said, “My goal became our goal. I just ran around my neighborhood and wherever I could reach by sidewalk.” Incredible! What a respectable accomplishment, to tackle this challenge for the first time and with no crowd support!

((Tony & Mari, training partners for her Half by Half goal!))

Speaking of accomplishments, I don’t know anyone who reads more books than Mari does. She considers it a good escape and touts the Book of the Month Club subscription as a wonderful investment. She has passed on her love of reading to their youngest, too, who haunts the library and has a passion for mycology, government, social issues, and much more.

When they weren’t finishing school work or baking, gardening, painting, or knitting and crocheting beautiful new creations, this passionate, multi-talented group used the long months of social isolation for binging great television. Together, these four happy roommates enjoyed Criminal Minds, vintage Cold Case Files, and every iteration of the Law and Order franchise. I should mention that these folks are true music lovers, and Mari touts the soundtrack for Cold Case Files as especially good. They balanced these dark shows with lighter fare like The Great British Baking Show, Modern Family, Schitt’s Creek, and, of course, Tiger King. This is Oklahoma, after all; Tiger King was almost required viewing during the spring of 2020.

One of their longstanding household traditions took on a more special meaning during pandemic: They keep an open jar on their kitchen counter into which anyone in the family, as well as visitors, can deposit handwritten notes commemorating special events and memories from throughout the year, all meant for emptying out and reading aloud on New Year’s Eve or Day. It’s a collective daily diary and gratitude journal of sorts, but for the whole family. Mari remembers writing something one day early in quarantine to memorialize the strange unfolding: “Remember back in spring when there was a pandemic? That was crazy!” She later laughed to think that she had once believed it would all be so brief.

Tony and Mari certainly never imagined that their kids’ high school finishes would be eclipsed by a global pandemic. But somehow they managed to discover some hidden treasures in the chaos and complication. When Marcus started his junior year of high school, he would spend almost another semester at home doing remote learning, and although a traditional classroom setting was needed and preferred for many reasons, it was only by spending so much extra time with their youngest that Mom and Dad became more keenly aware of some symptoms they called “neurodivergent.” They managed to arrange a medical screening and received a helpful autism diagnosis for their child. “I don’t think this is something that we would have discovered had we not had this time, and I’m very thankful for that.”

Then, Spencer was off to college, facing an especially complicated social distancing residential environment and many unknowns. But after all those months in quarantine, he left home with that wonderful cushion of intense quality time with his family. Without the previous year’s bizarre circumstances, his final months at home might have been much more hectic and much less memory-rich. “The family time was a blessing in that we were able to spend lots of quality time with our oldest before he went to college,” Mari said appreciatively.

As the world slowly reopened, Mari and Tony celebrated their twenty-ninth wedding anniversary with a short trip to a small casino resort in Durant, Oklahoma. This year they are looking forward to celebrating their thirtieth! She said of her 29-year marriage: “We’ve had lots of ups and downs and good and bad, though this was definitely a first. We make a good team and are usually able to give each other space when we need it. We’ve learned to talk instead of pop off when we’re feeling feelings, and that has made all the difference. Not that it wasn’t a challenge, but we tried to understand that we were both going through it, and neither of us is spared.”

For Thanksgiving 2021, this tight knit crew happily trekked to Washington DC, thankful for the freedom and means to travel again. Another of their shared passions is a reverence for the seat of government. Mari’s career also happens to be centered in D.C., so this trip was special on many levels, a meaningful compensation after so many delayed milestone celebrations.

Regarding politics, Mari is gentle and mostly guarded with her commentary, but she did divulge her belief that, “Government should calm, not craze, people.” She expressed sadness and anger about last January’s insurrection then relief when things calmed down. She gushed with affection for Amanda Gorman, admitting to having wept during the young woman’s poetic offering at the Presidential Inauguration. Mari said she began to feel calmer and happier around that time, and we talked about helpers and the constant presence of good people in the midst of social chaos.

Staying connected to loved ones during lockdown was made easier by the internet, a modern convenience for which they all are so grateful. Like many, they had to wait more than a year before visiting family in Wisconsin. In the mean time, everyone was thankful for protected health and, eventually, for the vaccine rollout.

No one in Mari’s household ever contracted the virus, though they have several friends and acquaintances that did. Some loved ones tested positive but were asymptomatic; others were so sick they were hospitalized for weeks. To emerge from this long, difficult year with their physical health is no small blessing. As of this writing, the entire family is fully vaccinated and deeply grateful for that. Mari said of the vaccine, “We weren’t the first in line, but I trust the process and think it’s important.” With every expression of gratitude for their health and their good fortune during pandemic, Mari also expressed compassion for others who were far less fortunate. She was reluctant to celebrate the beauty of their experience, cognizant of the suffering around her.

Looking back over their pandemic experience, it’s easy to see that while this sweet family didn’t have the year of extraordinary milestone celebrations they had planned, they certainly had an extraordinary year in other ways. They accepted the hand they were dealt and played it beautifully, with great love and responsiveness. They humbly gave thanks for their good luck through it all. They extracted from the ever shifting storm some truly meaningful personal connections, improved mental health, more fully developed hobbies and talents, and intimate family memories that will last a lifetime. They traveled intentionally when it made sense. They lived with authenticity and calm. Moreover, they nourished a very real sense of optimism about the world, about life. Mari said that they “spent more time focusing on the good rather than the bad. The good that happens when people pull together in community and support and love one another.”

Mari and I chatted in a soft, circular way about people and groups and human nature, about how we as a population have coped with covid-19 and all the fallout. Through it all, her perspective had that gracious upturned quality: “I’m shocked by how easily the world adapted.” She expressed genuine amazement. Rather than focus on the division or the difficulties, she has focused on how everyone pulled together and found ways to thrive. She has been dazzled by hard workers not seeking attention, celebrating, “good people doing good things just because they need to be done.”

I asked Mari to describe for me her spirituality, because while she never mentioned a particular church community, she emits such a sense of behind-the-scenes Zen, an inner sense of orderly peace, it made me curious. She is “technically Lutheran,” but had what she called a “self-reckoning with religion” in her mid-twenties. She now is actively working through her personal beliefs about heaven and hell, about God and organized religion and even reincarnation. This is far from a dismissal, though, and feels more like a wide-eyed exploration. She took Buddhist meditation classes and appreciates modern writers like Brene Brown and Glennon Doyle in varying amounts and for different reasons, and she affirms there is strength in vulnerability but feels like it should be more accessible to more people. Mari feels that we all are on “different paths to the same place, all just trying to get there.” And she wants to live in a way that “inspires better behavior, inspires others to be a good person.” Then she said, “At the cellular level we all need connection and love. Every person just wants love.”

Perhaps the most beautiful thing she said is something that just fell out of her lips so naturally: “There is nothing more holy to me than my kids.” So much of what Mari shared with me about her pandemic experience centered on what her two children were experiencing month to month, day to day, how they were growing, what she feared for their lives or celebrated about them. She is a fully engaged Mom who expects the best from her offspring and wonders how the world will treat them, pandemic or not. This is her religion, it seems, the crafting and feathering of a nest, a strong place from which Spencer and Marcus will soon be flying.

From the outside looking in, she and Tony are doing great. Mari has cultivated a sense of wonder and optimism, saying again and again in so many ways, “There are still things to be happy about!”

Wonder, optimism, and gratitude are the underpinnings to everything here. “I remember back at the beginning, seeing my kids with their eyes reflecting panic and despair at us, and working on trying to hear them out but also encourage them not to panic or get despondent. Now we say to them: Look at what you lived through. Look at what you can do. Look at what the world is doing to make the world a better place than it was when this all began. Because that’s the important thing, right? How we respond to difficult experiences.”

Looking forward? Mari asserted, gently, that she is in no hurry to reclaim the busyness of their life “before.” She craves deeper, if less frequent, connection with friends instead of the more common surface level contact. I love that. I also love her ability to kick off her shoes and curl up her sock feet and sit and talk. To sip hot tea and make prolonged eye contact. I love her ability to share a story and its core meaning, without stuttering or backtracking, without apologizing, just unwinding a golden thread with restful vulnerability. Sitting across from her on the afternoon that we finally spoke face to face, I drank in the slowness and fulfillment that we all were collectively seeking in those sourdough and puzzle-assembling months. She embodies both stillness and exploration, and it is quite beautiful.

((Some of the slow, lovely handiwork Mari produced during the pandemic months))

As our conversation expanded, Mari added this final layer of humility: “We definitely struggled as much as anyone during this time; we fought and cried and yelled and got sick and dealt with messes and ice storm damage and had disappointments and avoided each other and dealt with hardships, but in the end, the things I want to focus on is not what we endured, but rather what we learned and how we grew. I will never deny the messy or difficult things we lived through, but I will focus on the fact that we lived through them and hopefully learned something.” Personally, I adore this perspective. Acknowledging the hard times is valuable, and making a deliberate choice about how you memorialize those hard times is even moreso.

Mari, thank you for sharing your pandemic memories and for sharing your heart. You make me feel exactly how you said of the world at large: You make me, “want to hope for the best.”

XOXOXOXO

Looking for Something?