Lazy W Marie

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

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daughter dreams, blackberries, & wellness habits

Last night I dreamt that Jocelyn came home. It was a happy, lighthearted dream. Bridget was with her, and everything felt natural and smooth. Fearless. Complete. It was so seamless with reality that waking up required a few minutes of unraveling. Sometimes when I have dreamed about the girls during a long separation, I am emotionally wrecked for a while, at least for the day. This time, all day today, I have felt a new kind of buoyancy. I believe in my bones that the right time is fast approaching for us to reunite in a meaningful way. As exciting as that is, I am in no hurry. I most of all want it to be right for her.

At one minute past 6 a.m., Klaus and I slipped outside to watch the morning take hold. Though cloudless at that hour, the sky was visibly dome like, its pastel spread dazzling and saturated with humidity. We launched into the front field, taking every curve of the new Enchanted Path. The mown-flat walkway was dewy, the ground both hard and spongy, yielding, the feathery native grasses as high as my shoulders now, begging to be touched. Wildflowers continue their bloom display, and I am ready to scatter more seeds.

The moon hung on the southwest corner of the farm, waning by almost a quarter on this 117th day of quarantine. It drew me over to the horses, who arrived yawning and snuffling for breakfast. They will need extra fly spray today.

The squash blossoms were already awake, riotous, trembling with dozens of industrious honeybees. No monster vegetables to harvest yet this morning, but having unburdened the vines this week, and having fed and watered them, we will find more soon.

We fed the front coop flock and collected seven heavy eggs, three of them so recently produced they were still hot to the touch. By the time we meandered back around the house to feed Romulus and his fleecy companion, Handsome had stepped outside. The workday was about to begin in earnest. Every bird, both wild and domestic, was roused and singing.

On my run a few hours later (mostly trails, very sweaty, supremely refreshing), I saw the local high school Cross Country team warming up. This always reminds me of Jocelyn and the one year she was able to run for McGuinness. She is such a talented runner, a natural athlete. I wonder if she knows that a big part of why I started running was to feel modestly connected to her during our longest separation.

Also on my run, I saw a middle aged woman (younger than me but not my much) and a teenaged boy. They had stopped running, both leaning over, hands on knees. I had the distinct impression of either a recent or an impending vomit event. I slipped an earbud out of my greasy right ear and asked the pair, because I couldn’t really tell who was suffering more, “Are you ok?” The woman answered with a weak but warm smile, “We’re just having a pep talk.” We nodded briefly at each other, and I ran on. I wondered actively for the next 3 miles who was giving and who was receiving said pep talk. Mostly I was happy they had each other. My own pep talks are always just between me and myself and it can make me feel crazy.

This big bowl of sweet, ripe, perfect black berries is poised and ready for either a cobbler or a syrup recipe or maybe some jelly. What would you do with them? I am amazed by the productivity of my two little vines this year. And I eat them constantly while gardening! This is just what actually made it to the fridge.

I have been thinking lots about a “Wellness Toolbox” concept, and I hope that soon you will join me in a long conversation about that. Today, though, in case you need it, I want to share a list of fundamentals offered by Steve Magness, author of both Peak Performance (which I have purchased but not yet read) and The Passion Paradox, which I devoured this past winter alongside Atomic Habits (different author). Magness imparts some very adaptable wisdom that has been especially useful to me during this weird and shifting pandemic season. Here are notes from my journal:

Take what you want, leave what you don’t. But I believe that most of us can benefit from these fundamental habits, no matter what the unknowns are:

  1. Focus on what you can control.
  2. Move your body regularly.
  3. Spend time in nature.
  4. Lower expectations.
  5. Create a routine.
  6. Practice optimism grounded in reality.
  7. Mood follows action.

Friends, thank you for your tomato recipe ideas yesterday! I shared a few pounds of especially pretty ones with our new neighbors, and I am excited to dive into some for our own pleasure, too.

Happy Thursday night!!

I want to remain all my life
a devout lover of reality
while seeking Spirit
XOXOXOXO

the rice story, tomato abundance, & lil lady marigold

Wednesday evening already? How has your work week been so far? Ours has been various and roller-coastery, which has become the norm, of course. But our main gig is counting blessings. They are multiplying hourly.

Mid-morning today I enjoyed a short run at the lake and listened to Bob Goff’s podcast. In the midst of encouraging his listeners to Dream Big and to see ourselves as citizens of the world, he shared a story about a church experience in India. At the front of the room the pastor had displayed two large jars holding rice. Apparently the members were accustomed to either taking one handful of rice (enough for a day’s eating) or leave the same amount. It was always a one-handful transaction. Giving or receiving, one little bit at a time. Whether you need a little bit or have excess to share.

Starting right where we are. One effort at a time, releasing some of the pressure to build an empire, even an altruistic one, overnight. It has been echoing in my heart all day.

And how’s this for another expression of dreaming big? A few sentences from Cold Mountain again:

“But, too, she had long since grown impatient with Adam and Hetty and the rest and would have quit the book but for the fact that she had paid so much for it. She wished all the people of the story to be more expansive, not so cramped by circumstance. What they needed was more scope, greater range. Go to the Indes, she directed them. Or the Andes.”

Tomatoes just jump into my arms when I walk past the garden! How would you use these in your kitchen? Ahhh the colors. The flavors. And every one of them has such incredible texture. Zero mush here, sir. No weird watery grocery store tomatoes, ok, because these are summertime garden fresh heirloom tomatoes. The bright yellow ones are actually called Lemon Boy, and they are already ripe at this color. I am craving a Parmesan-and-pastry tomato pie, maybe fried green tomatoes soon, too. Handsome and Jessica have both promised to play around with making salsa. Cannot wait. What else??

I sowed a few packages of seeds today, where those old squash vines had failed: okra, zinnias, and beets. No worries about that small loss, though, because dozens of other squash vines are still thriving and producing food. I harvested a 56-ounce zuchinni today! That is three and a half pounds! Most of the raised beds got a good dose of compost plus deep watering. The sunflowers should be opening any second now. The moon is waning.

Little Lady Marigold watches me all day. She moves around her sectioned off shady yard and just stares and head butts the air and occasionally bleats, gently. I asked her today if she wanted to swim in the pool with us. She ran away.

Are you reading anything you’d like to recommend? Specifically, do you have any daily devotionals on your radar, that are good and nourishing? I am in that market.

Happy Wednesday night, friends. Over the next few days I have a book review, a recipe, and some other fun stuff to share. Take care.

Cheers to being more expansive
XOXOXOXO

beauty just as it is

858 new coronavirus cases in Oklahoma. While my husband and I recently tested negative and have been severely limiting out interactions with anyone other than quarantined family, this statistic has our attention. We learn daily of more and more positives in our immediate circle of friends and colleagues, many of them at risk for serious reasons. This is far from a hypothetical problem in our world. I know and love people who have been sick for weeks, for months, and are homebound because being in public, or even with close friends and family, is too risky. What underscores all of the statistics, though, is the fact that Jessica works in a hospital, so near to the virus, day after day. I do not comprehend the nonchalant attitude so many people are displaying.

Let’s talk about something else.

This afternoon I tackled the raised bed project I mentioned in yesterday’s post. As a karmic reward, I walked away with one of the heaviest and most luscious tomato hauls of the summer so far. The jalapenos are about ready, so I hope to try my hand at roasted salsa this weekend.

Little Lady Marigold came all the way up to me for her breakfast! I couldn’t believe it. She was so bold and friendly. Had I not slept late this morning and felt pressed to finish my chores in order to run my miles before lunchtime, I could have sat there with her all day. Her fleece is still messy and wild looking, but I kinda love it. I also love her awkward, little bleaty voice. “Bleehhhuuu!”

The mural garden is out of control in the best way.

Maybe it was the vote of confidence from my doctor yesterday, maybe I just needed to know I wasn’t doing any damage to my body, but today was the first time in quite a while that I ran 8 miles effortlessly. It felt truly easy. Comfortable. I feel like it is a good beginning.

Have you sampled that podcast yet, called The Anthropocene Reviewed? I enjoyed another episode, this one about sunsets and beauty just as it is and also The Great Gatsby, “Our Capacity for Wonder.” Really thought provoking, especially toward the end.

Before signing off tonight, I would love to share a little passage from Cold Mountain. The man in this story feels about music the way I feel about words, about language:

“One thing he discovered with a great deal of astonishment was that music held more for him than just pleasure. There was meat to it. The grouping of sounds, their forms in the air as they rang out and faded, said something comforting to him about the rule of creation. What the music said was that there is a right way for things to be ordered so that life might not always be just tangle and drift but have a shape, an aim. It was a powerful argument against the notion that things just happen.”

Sweet sleep, friends, Thank you for checking in.

XOXOXOXO

squash bugs, plantar fasciitis, & other forms of domestic terrorism

Our fresh new work week had started off happy, humid, and healthy. The gardens are still rolling out gorgeous vegetables. The hens are still laying colorful eggs (despite Rick Astlee’s occasional violence). And we remain so thankful to have both a pool and air conditioning for afternoon siestas. Beneath the surface pleasures, we feel that river of peace rushing strong and sure. Watering everything deeply. God is moving on all the trauma. He is binding everyone up and together in brand new ways. How amazing that every day He refreshes my hope and carves out a new level of trust.

I visited my orthopedic doctor today to get my ankles and feet checked out. Although the pain has now diminished to almost zero, I kept the appointment in order to display all of my Instagram physiology knowledge. This is definitely not annoying to a health care professional, right? Seriously though, this is a recurring soft tissue problem, and I need it sorted out. I also wanted to rule out bone and joint problems. A few X-rays and ankle twirls confirmed healthy everything, just mild calcification on my left heel. My doctor is wonderfully conversational about natural running stride, the importance of core strength and hip alignment, arch support, shoe debates, you name it. He even recommended a book to me that just happens to already be on my book shelf! Running friends should be prepared for my extremely annoying unsolicited advice, coming soon.

Ok. Halee and her men are soon moving to Spain, but I need her to reconsider everything so she and I can pursue our synchronized swimming career. No photo of that available to share, but trust me, our maiden attempt was spectacular. Instead, here are her boys trying to lure Little Lady Marigold with a bucket of sweet grain. This petite sheep really does come closer every day.

Greg, almost 10, and Connor, 4 1/2 xoxoxo

Ok. A few days ago I asked you guys for advice on eating only watermelon and cashews for a while, and nobody objected. Not one person cautioned me for any reason whatsoever, so I am gonna go for it. It’s fine.

While most of my squash and zuchinni vines are looking great, I have discovered a few plants in the two long, narrow raised beds (the two connected by an arched trellis) that have suffered a squash bug attack. Rather than try to rehabilitate those, I decided to rip them out, give the neighboring tomatoes and marigolds some really good TLC, then fill the blank spaces with zinnia seeds. I had been feeling a vague sadness for the conspicuous absence of explosive zinnias so far this summer, and this new effort could bring me all the way through to Halloween. Maybe some Russian kale, too.

That middle stripe will be clean & replanted by tomorrow afternoon.

Today is His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s 85th birthday! He has become special to us since we read The Book of Joy. If you have four minutes, click over and enjoy his video message to the people of Tibet.

Have you read The Book of Joy yet?

How has your work week started? What are you reading this week? Is there any way we can be praying for you and your people? Please continue to send love and all kinds of healing for our girls. That is forefront in my heart, and all of it is making such a difference.

Please help me remember to talk to you about being a verb instead of a noun, and about embracing constant evolution. I love you, thank you for checking in!

“People take different roads
seeking fulfillment and happiness.
Just because they’re not on your road
doesn’t mean they’ve gotten lost.”
~Dalai Lama XIV
XOXOXOXO

and the rocket’s red glare

We celebrated the Fifth of July tonight, with a smaller version of our family. While we definitely missed everyone who couldn’t be here (thanks to either travel or covid quarantine) we managed to make exactly as many fun and silly memories. Dad brought slow smoked ribs, too, which are becoming his specialty. We did poppers and colorful smoke bombs, swam until our ears and sinuses were all filled with chlorine water, and discussed politics just the right amount. These summer nights at the farm with our people are solid gold to me. My family lights up my whole world.

Wishing you all the thrills and peace and rhythm of holiday traditions, especially in summertime, and even when they have to be altered greatly. It’s worth the effort to keep some things going.

XOXOXO