Lazy W Marie

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

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brick by brick

I have enjoyed the best short work week, and my heart is hammering with gratitude and excitement. About what? It’s hard to articulate. Hard to narrow it down. The weather certainly helps. Summertime is glorious here, and finally we are stepping into the lush, gilded season. But this is a deeper feeling than just pleasure or relaxation. I feel that wonderful, elusive kind of joy that comes when purpose aligns with both motivation and resources. No, it feels even better than that. It feels like anticipation without nervousness or that sense of scarcity that often accompany it. Like I am fine right where I am, and also I feel something huge coming.

I love this explosion of color, so much.

Okay.

I walked outside to snap a photo of the shade garden for this post, because I wanted to share the brick pathway with you. The afternoon has been quiet with the newfound heat (80 degrees today with no wind!), barely a goose honk or horse snuffle, so a soft rustling of dried leaves caught my attention. I assumed it was Romulus behind the cottage. I walked forward and stepped up onto the deck then heard the sound again and saw something flash in my periphery. A snake, a pretty big one, was speeding like quicksilver toward me.

I jumped sideways and backwards all at once and also did a back handspring into the herb garden (stuck the landing, thank-you-very-much) to evade him.

Sebastian

This is most likely Sebastian, the rat snake who has lived beneath our deck for a few years now. I did him no harm, though we often dispatch even harmless snakes for being too near the house or chicken coops. I also did not venture forth for the shade garden photo. Speaking of chickens.

Yesterday, the kids paid me a surprise visit, and as always we had the best conversation and delighted in watching Klaus and Bean play outside. All the time, I am amazed by how it feels to relate to my kids as adults. It is a complete and joyful surprise in life, and I would not trade it for anything.

This morning as we sipped our coffee and absorbed about one third of the news, Handsome and I started sketching out plans for two very worthy celebrations here at the farm, both of them slated for later in the summer. I won’t spill the beans yet, but suffice it to say that not planning many gatherings these past fifteen months really had my hostess energy bottle-necking. The relief, the fire hydrant of ideas, almost made me nauseous. In a good way.

We chip away at lofty goals and heartfelt dreams one act or one job at a time. One day, one hour, one moment is all we can ever spend at once. That’s okay, as long as we spend most of them really well. Moving slowly and steadily toward our hopes and best intentions, building our unique paths, is totally fine done brick by brick. This might be the best lesson running (and specifically marathon training) has taught me: See your biggest goal and break it down in a realistic way, then focus on and complete one task, one workout, one mile, one step at a time. Amazingly, they add up, and they add up quickly. Even the hard ones.

Keep at it, friends!

“You own everything that happened to you.
Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them,
they should’ve behaved better.”
~Anne Lamott
XOXOXOXO

give chase

As of today, Handsome and his team at Public Utilities are working in the building again. Full time, more or less, with plenty of considerations and creative solutions to keep everyone safe and happy. Although he has been in the Jim Thorpe building or at the Capitol more and more in recent weeks, this marks a new chapter. The farm will miss him very much.

This afternoon while going on a muddy wander-walk around the farm, Klaus and I discovered three giant buzzards feeding on the carcass of a dead snake (an enormous, previously muscular, now flat and stinking dead snake). The exact moment we realized they were buzzards and not crows, Klaus flexed his entire body, spiked up his terrifying hackles, and bolted straight and hard like something out of an action movie. The scavenger birds dispersed, floated up to the lowest branch of a nearby pine tree, and sat there pulsing their considerable shoulders at us. Klaus delivered his most baritone warning to the sky then turned to me proudly, smiling.

We wander-walked away, but every time Klaus sensed the buzzards return silently to the ground, he again gave chase, ruined their luncheon, and returned to me, panting and smiling. Few things makes this boy happier than protecting the farm. Even if he is protecting us from nature itself.

All of that adrenaline boiled, cooled, and boiled again, without a full release. So when Johnny Ringo (the cat) joined us on the meditation path, he was really in for it.

In about an hour, I get to meet with a fascinating gentleman from Choctaw to finish up his pandemic interview, which I will be sharing later this week. I am so excited to get back in the swing of this project. And I believe you will be inspired by his slant of things this past year. His is one of two stories that still remain to be told (my friends are so patient), then I will be hungry for more interviews. I had to take some time away to kind of let my heart settle. It had all built up in unexpected ways for me, then of course the gardens and all of life reopening meant I was spending less and less time on my laptop. Anyway. I’m back and loving the project and everyone’s stories as much as ever.

This first day of June has been a good one for diving into good intentions, sweaty exercise, happy farm tasks, and solid conversation. My heart is full. I hope whatever you’re chasing gives you the same thrill as wild buzzards gave Klaus today.

“Whatever fills the heart and consumes the mind
is a manifestation of what is worshipped.”
-Alisha Illian
XOXOXOXO

summertime blogging streak day 1

Hello, happy almost June! I have so many updates to share, my body is thrumming from it all. Every day lately I have gone to bed tired and happy, but also frustrated for having not written. The goodness and energy accumulates, you know, and never slows down.

at Scissortail Park in OKC, thanks to our friend Kellie for snapping this photo!

Starting today, I will be on a blogging streak for as long as it takes to get it all out, at least for the months of June and July, maybe longer. Writing streaks are about the only way to loosen up my atrophied brain muscles, ha. The updates will range from farmish and gardening to family and community, health and fitness, books, and some deeply personal things too, so I hope you’ll follow along. I hope you’ll share your thoughts with me too!

Yesterday was our llama Meh’s seventh birthday. I made him a big, soft, layered vanilla cake with orange frosting and white pansies. He was characteristically unimpressed but still leaned in for cuddles and kisses. I will probably end up eating a little bit of the cake then donating the rest to the chickens,

happy 7th birthday, Meh! xoxo

My new salvaged-brick path in the shade garden has changed direction a bit and is looking great, in my imagination, ha. I am slowly adding enough shade loving perennials to fill in the abundance of blank space, and it is all wonderfully satisfying. I can’t stop thinking about my grandparents’ beautiful garden, the one I loved to explore as a little girl, and how maybe in the future our own grandchildren will love to explore this space. One of my favorite features of this garden is that it looks completely different from inside the adjacent cottage. Very secluded and gentle feeling, plus you can see Little Lady Marigold and Romulus from there!

Can you see the intended path?

One big, detailed update I will offer soon is on my husband’s mobile Batcave. Oh my gosh, friends, he never ceases to amaze me.

He is painting this massive enclosed trailer to transport the Batmobile in style!

What is going on in your world? How are you launching summertime this year? Are you traveling, gardening, resting, working harder than ever? A little of it all, for us. And we are smitten again.

“To live every day as if it had been stolen from death,
that is how I would like to live.
To feel the joy of life, as Eve felt the joy of life.
To separate oneself from the burden, the angst,
the anguish that we all encounter every day.
To say I am alive, I am wonderful, I am, I am.
That is something to aspire to.”
~Garth Stein
The Art of Racing in the Rain

may 15th already?

A few days ago, between dinnertime and sunset, my husband and I were meandering around the south lawn when I spotted a dangling bouquet of scarlet red strawberries growing in that narrow, sandy little elbow near the Chinese umbrella trees. I picked a few for us to sample, and we simultaneously exclaimed at how sweet and juicy they were. So sweet! So juicy! Then he finished chewing and swallowed his and said, with complete sincerity, “That’s like a free strawberry!” It’s why we garden, folks. It’s for the free strawberries.

Please enjoy this very typical photo of Meh aggressively smooching Jess:

Speaking of Jessica, on her invitation, I just devoured The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. It is easily one of the most moving stories and beautifully written books in my life, so far. It should perhaps be required reading for anyone thinking of adopting a dog. Bonus points to the author for layering in plenty of messaging about manifestation and mind power. I loved it and cried and laughed out loud and cried again as I sped through the pages. This is the second time Jessica will have read it, and we are excited to sit and discuss it soon. The first time she read it was during our dark chapter of separation, something neither of us chose or wanted. Funny how life can twist and turn and give us myriad ways to reclaim what we have lost.

Myself, I am rereading An Other Kingdom, which I first read the winter preceding pandemic. Its themes and pointed spiritual challenges are even more throbbing neon today. Then, they were exciting, counter cultural ideas; now they are expressions of what so many of us have learned (maybe the hard way?) these recent stressful months.

“My life is either the performance of a deathly liturgy or the possibility of something alive, a liturgy of aliveness.”

The 2021 Lazy W gardens are mostly in and growing steadily. No overnight successes or transformations here, but rather a steady stream of seeds disappearing into the fertile earth and flats of annuals and new herbs here and there to fill in the gaps. I have added six different rose bushes (who am I?) to various beds and replaced two big ornamental grasses that did not come back after the brutal winter. Otherwise, I think all of my shrubs and perennials made it, even the crepe myrtles, hydrangeas, and azaleas. The daylilies promise to be stunning this summer. This year my food growing efforts are very much blended in with my flower growing indulgences. It’s all a big crazy, celebratory mix, is what I’m saying. Especially because I neglected to label much as I planted, what we see week to week is what we are gonna get. It’s fine. My gardening mood this year is definitely chaos and color, with a hefty dose of welcome and abundance.

Both last Saturday and this morning, Handsome and I attended small, local car cruise ins. These aren’t exactly car shows; they are casual gatherings for car collectors to mingle, enjoy a cup of coffee and maybe a free donut. During covid shut downs and quarantines last year, we missed 100% of the scant car events, so being back out and about, seeing friends we hadn’t seen in a year has been wonderful. We made a new friend too, and she happens to live on our road out here in Choctaw! Wonders never cease. She is brand new to Oklahoma, so I am having fun getting acquainted and bragging about my home state.

I hope you are doing well, friends! I hope that your mother’s day weekend, however you were able to celebrate, was loving and happy. I was spoiled rotten as per the usual, and I got to spend quality time with both my parents and my youngest girl (and Bean). Jess cooked a beautiful brunch, complete with a set table and handwritten letter. What’s better than your little toddler baby bringing you breakfast in bed, is your grown woman child inviting you to her house for a perfect meal.

That, and my hopes and beliefs for Jocelyn are so strong and exciting right now, I almost cannot find the words to wrap around the feeling. I wake up every day knowing in my bones that if I don’t see her that day, I am one day closer to seeing her. And my dreams about her are radiant and strong.

For personal reasons, I needed a little reprieve from the writing pandemic stories, but now I am ready to dive back in. Two more are in the wings being edited, plus three or four potential new interviews, and I am excited to share them all with you. Have you enjoyed reading them? Everyone has been so vulnerable and forthcoming. I have gleaned much more from this whole project than I expected to.

Okay. Onward to the rest of Saturday. Thank you so much for checking in!

“Well being is the only stream that flows.”
~Abraham Hicks
XOXOXOXO

tuesday as winter throws its final tantrum

As I sit down for a few minutes to write this, we are bracing for one final cold snap, a late one by some measures but also weather that is completely on par with… (gestures widely to the entire past year). The overnight low in much of Oklahoma will likely flirt with 32 degrees for an hour or so, which is enough to trigger damaging frost. So I am happy to have not yet planted any tender tropicals. Today I spent a few hours moving soft, sweet smelling compost in gentle heaps and pillows to all the roses and brassica vegetables, plus the few cannas that have broken ground already. Fingers crossed for all my hydrangeas and viburnum; they are way to big to cover without letting the cloth touch the foliage. Nothing has bloomed yet, only leafed out, so that seems good.

Both yesterday and today while flipping and moving compost, I spied a baby snake. It is a silvery grey thing, narrow and shiny, fast as lightning. Had I not seen its tapered tail I might have guessed it to be an overfed earthworm. This is the time of year for both fat earthworms and skinny snakes. And they are both likely to be found in the compost.

The compost heap also produced a trio of humble, cheerful little squash plants, a wonderful surprise. I lifted them out of the fertile ground, along with some of that magical black stuff, and potted them up for transplanting soon into the proper garden. They will have a head start on all the other squash plants and maybe thereby escape the scourge whose name we dare not speak.

These are probably spaghetti squashes, based on the giant petrified skin I found nearby.

The strawberries I have been growing just for fun in small pots are, to my surprise, actually growing. And ripening! Look at this sweet pink baby.

About 2 dozen of these are growing in pots. Should I leave them, or put the in a garden bed?

Klaus kept me company all day while I moved compost and pulled wild greens for the chickens. We now have four big raised beds clean and fed in advance of planting this weekend. He played hard with Meh and Little Lady Marigold, then he came inside with me, visibly exhausted. He napped hard for about twenty minutes while I ate lunch and caught up on messages. Then we went upstairs to the Apartment to do the ironing. As I got started, he perched himself dramatically on the guest bed there and gave me the most pitiful face. Clearly, he had rested plenty and wanted to be back outside with his brother Meh. Or, and this is a legitimate possibility, he wanted Meh to come inside with us and play babies in the Apartment.

Can you see Meh far in the distance?

We are having soup tonight at the Lazy W, a cozy dinner to thaw our bodies, round out a hard working day, and embrace what will hopefully be the end of very cold weather for a very long time. I feel my heart thawing in so many ways, too. I feel the loosening of this vice grip of worry for our kids, and I feel the swell of peace and the energy of joyful work. All of it flowing.

“Well being is the only stream that flows.”
~Abraham Hicks
XOXOXO