Shopping for groceries yesterday (stockpiling like a maniac, really, because we are once again expecting the kind of winter weather that keeps people home for a week) I passed by a stand of “fresh” herbs in the produce section. I use the word fresh so loosely here. Did you hear my air quotes? Because I was laying it on pretty thick. They were suffocating in little plastic coffins, wilted, sad, barely retaining any shade of natural green. Like puppies at the shelter who know they are unlikely to get adopted. Depressing. It got me thinking about how much I want you to join us in growing your own herbs this season.

Last year I designated a paisley-shaped curve of earth near my kitchen door as the Lazy W herb garden, and I have never been happier about a gardening decision in my life. For months it yielded color, fragrance, flavor, all kinds of beauty and repose, efficiency, imagination, just everything you want from a small garden. And having it nearby was so fun! I could be in the middle of cooking a meal, decide I needed an herb, and just walk outside barefoot to snip a generous handful of something for free. Never even had to untie my apron.

How do I convince you it’s worth the effort? When dried herbs are so abundant and soon enough “FRESH” herbs (cue dramatic eye roll) will look ever so slightly better at the stores, what will nudge you to decide that you too need a small corner of paradise to grow your own flavors? Well I’m gonna try.

If you grow your own savory herbs like parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, you’ll always have piles of the gorgeous stuff just begging to be thinned and used up in the kitchen; no more doling out those precious leaves one at a time. Your recipes will take on a whole new level of deliciousness. And your family will never grow tired of you singing Simon and Garfunkel songs while you cook. Pinky promise.

If you grow you own basil (and my gosh you really truly SHOULD. Why aren’t you?), you will be able to whip up a blender full of bright green pesto at a moment’s notice. Your pasta will never be the same. Your visits to Italian restaurants will take a sudden and sharp nose dive because no sauce there will ever taste as good as what you simmer in your own pots. You’ll stop wearing expensive perfume because you are so enchanted with the way your fingers smell after harvesting a flirty bouquet.

If you grow frivolous herbs like chocolate mint, it really increases your fairy tale powers. You become much better at telling stories to small children. You crave less diet coke and more hot tea. You do more yoga. Everything is better when you grow these odd little herbs.

Have I persuaded you a little? Because it’s early February, friends. Time to plan your garden. Time to sit with a cup of perfect coffee or hot tea and dream up what you’d really like to be harvesting soon. What do you use lots of in your recipes? What would you like to use, if it were less expensive at the store? What superpowers in your arsenal need amplifying? Fresh herbs are the answer. Real fresh herbs, not air-quotes fresh herbs.

Stay tuned here for detailed posts about building your own herb garden and drumming up your own cloud of culinary magic. It’s gonna be so fun.

All Hail Basil!

XOXOXOXO

Happy Marathon Monday!

Well, last week started off pretty strong. On each of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I ran a little more than the prescribed miles, getting my midweek total up to fifteen before I spent Thursday and Friday subbing at a local school. On those days I skipped or “rested” (as a side note, I love how in running you can skip a workout and call it resting…) and definitely felt the energy building in my body; I craved a big, exhausting depletion. The plan then was to join that south OKC running club very very very very early Saturday morning for at least ten miles, and I was super excited. They run “out and backs” which is a lot different than running quarter-mile laps for a million years. I had discovered with that short series of urban runs recently that I can go much longer and more happily this way. Anyway, I looked forward to the miles, the variety, and the new friendly faces including Carrie who has welcomed me so warmly. But threat of Oklahoma weather kept me home with Handsome in those cozy wee hours, so I rounded out the week with just five more miles here at the farm. We suffered through cuddling and hot tub romancing, you guys. Life is rough.

Overall, it was a mediocre week for training. I had 24 miles planned and ran 20 at a really good, solid-for-me pace. And yes, I see clearly how right now I am barely accomplishing in one week what will be asked of me all on one beautiful morning this April. (gulp)

It’s not terrible results. In fact it was slightly better than the previous week with regard to planning; but I could have made a better effort with cross training or just plain sucking it up outdoors to stay with the program and get every mile clocked.

How this new week will play out is whole new set of question marks. In Oklahoma we are currently buried in beautiful, fluffy snow and expect loads and loads more tomorrow and again at this Friday. I make it a rule to not run on ice, but snow? Surely that’s ok. It might be a great workout, actually. Yesterday afternoon we did some four-wheeling in the west field, so my path is somewhat cleared by those tire marks. We’ll see.

Okay! Happy Monday, friends. I am off to feed the big animals their protein mix and a few extra thousand piles of good, sweet hay to keep their bellies warm. Then maybe I’ll run outside. Handsome’s Dad and I are spending much the week together, and I am excited to see what that brings. Please check in here throughout the week for a couple of interesting book reviews, a brownie taste test announcement, gardening ideas, and more apiary journal memories. Lots going on at the W. What are you up to today?

“Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.”

~Pietro Aretino (15th century Italian poet)

xoxoxoxoxoxo

What a beautiful Groundhog Day morning…
Handsome and I slept in just a touch,
the perfect end to a sweet, fun Saturday together.

We carried mugs of perfect coffee outside for a quick little Hot Tub Summit,
when the ground was still bare and the skies still clear, if dim and gray.

As we soaked our bones and reflected on our dose of weekend romance,
the snow flirted with us and cast a delicate snow globe spell.
That muffled silence… I just love it.

Then suddenly the winds whipped up.
It sliced through our faces, ending Hot Tub Summit pretty quickly.
We sprinted the twenty yards or so from the hot tub to the kitchen door
And changed happily into warm, comfy clothes. Nowhere to travel today.

I should mention here that Handsome volunteered to do
every bit of the animal feeding today.
This is extra luxurious for yours truly.

In just minutes the snowy flirtation progressed to a full on assault.
The farm quickly dressed herself in white, every surface rapidly accumulating
piles of broad, fluffy snowflakes.
Absolutely beautiful.

I’m not the least bit discouraged by the groundhog’s wintry prediction today.
This “six more weeks” business is no problem.
Spring will descend in her perfect time, in her gentle ways.
Until then, there are seeds to order and books to read.
There is cuddling to do and love to enjoy.

We have six more weeks to count the blessings of this past season.

Happy snowy Sunday, friends. Especially those of you here in Oklahoma with us.

The end of winter is always a thrilling time for gardeners. We gather up last year’s lessons learned and unfulfilled longings and search for ideas and ways to do better. We list then list again all the myriad foods we wish to serve our families straight from the back yard and all the herbs that we no longer want to buy at the grocery store. The appetite is great.

We also celebrate all over again last year’s experiments that were successful! The crops or bouquets that surprised even our own sweaty brows. (This is where having taken photos last year is really helpful.) We lust after fifty shades of green and intense flavors and every natural perfume this beautiful world has to offer.

I am certainly no exception. Right now on my coffee table is a wicker basket about two feet wide and half that deep, filled with brand new seed catalogs and gardening magazines. Countless sheets of paper have lists and diagrams scribbled with my ideas for 2014. I go to sleep thinking about the garden and I wake up thinking about the garden. I think about it when I run, and I talk about it every single day to anybody who will listen. Including our parrot. Everywhere I visit, I will inevitably spot a little expanse of dead lawn that could become a vegetable plot or maybe a barren ribbon of earth circling an office building that really should be a flowering border. I believe in my heart that everyone I meet wants our free Lazy W animal manure, and it baffles me when they decline.

This year some of my sweet local friends are joining the slow food movement with renewed passion. We are ordering seeds in large quantities to share the shipping costs and encourage each other,  and we are doing so twice: Once next week for the earliest spring planting then again closer to tax day for the summer stuff. Some foods and flowers we have decided to buy locally.

Are you interested? Do you have even just a sunny patio where you could start a few bowls of lettuce, or maybe a little strip of lawn that could yield even more? It does not have to be fancy or ginormous to be thoroughly satisfying in every way! I’d be so happy if you followed along with us this year.

Here are the seeds we plan to order now in order to make the most of the cool months:

• radishes (both red and white)
• lettuces (There are so many different varieties! We’re ordering fancy-schmancy lettuces you’re  not likely to buy at the grocery store.)
• kale (swoon)
• snow peas
• spinach
• carrots
• arugula
• broccoli raab
• parsley
• cilantro

And here are the foods we plan to seek out and buy locally, mostly because none of us are equipped with great grow lights or heating mats, so it makes more sense to buy flats of baby veggies rather than have them shipped:

• garlic
• potatoes
• strawberries (both the June-bearing and ever-bearing)
• broccoli
• cabbages (both colors)
• cauliflower
• brussels sprouts
• asparagus

Are you tempted? Or are you three steps ahead of me already? Either way, I wish you the grandest gardening adventure ever this year! I wish you good, nutritious, slow food that feeds your soul as well as your body.  I wish you a true spiritual connection to your little piece of this earth, however big or small it is. And I wish you all the sensual pleasures we are promised for being caretakers here.

Stay tuned for more from the Lazy W slow food movement! This is only the beginning.

Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.

~Wendell Berry

XOXOXOXO

Happy Marathon Monday, friends! How was your weekend? Ours was pretty amazing, until late last night when a grass fire in a neighboring pasture kept Handsome outside for several hours. Thankfully he watched and kept the W safe and sound while I kept our big bed nice and warm by remaining in my chamomile-induced coma. Until that, we had enjoyed book club on Friday night, Hot Tub Summit on Saturday and Sunday mornings, lots of romance, time to play, time outside doing farmish things, new cats for the barn, just all kinds of great stuff. Sunday morning at church was even pretty wonderful. Life is good.

As for my marathon training, last week was mediocre and last night I had an anxious dream to prove it. (I dreamed that I forgot how to pace myself and while rounding a corner in midtown this guy offered me a hive of bees and then I felt conflicted by that and the fact that my favorite color was no longer green, oh nevermind… It’s hard to explain this early in the morning.) Suffice it to say that for Hal Higdon week four I was scheduled to run 23 miles and only clocked 14.5. So I am now 8.5 miles short, which is a pity because had I planned better that gap could have closed in just one day. I simply failed to make running a priority last week. Kept putting it off thinking Oh I’ll get to it. And then the sun sets before 6 pm and it’s dinner time and I have wet laundry to deal with or dirty floors and then it’s tomorrow. And the feeling of failure snowballs. Well, not this week! Today is starting with a bang, no matter how cold it is or how long my list of chores becomes.

AND I joined a running club.  A sweet friend of a sweet friend, after I bugged her a little on Facebook, graciously invited me to participate in a South OKC group which meets not too terribly far from our place. This should introduce some accountability to my routine as well as give me the safety of running with a group so I can tackle those longer miles somewhere other than  the quarter mile loop in the back field of our farm. I am really excited!

So. Getting a bit more serious with the Higdon calendar. Making progress in the gardens. Ordering seeds with my friend Seri. Reading three more books that already have my full attention. Doing some spring cleaning around here. Trying to lay down my ego and be more pliable with the men in my home. Believing in miracles and the power of hope and love. That’s what I’m up to this week. What about you?

Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.

~William James

XOXOXOXO

p.s. I’m posting this a full day late because yesterday turned out to be packed with excellent activity! Great start to the week indeed. And check out last night’s sunset:

Happy, productive, love-filled, healthy Tuesday, friends! Stay cozy.