Lazy W Marie

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

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Craig Trumps Gosling

   Yep, I have enjoyed the whole Hey Girl trend as much as the next, well, girl. For months I have giggled and blushed and guffawed as Ryan Gosling’s different suave likenesses delivered joke after witty, female-congratulatory joke. But it’s time to adjust. It’s high time we breathe some fresh air into this trend.

   Tonight I introduce to you Mr. Daniel Craig. I simply trust the good taste of my readers. I expect this to make your day at least a little bit.

Sweet Dreams Ladies.
xoxoxo

A Short, Happy Story for Ya

Our kitchen freezer has been dying a slow death since early June.
 Late last night it finally hemorrhaged melted vanilla ice cream all over the tile floor, 
forcing our thrifty hands into action.
We had to wait until this morning for either repair or replacement, 
so I emptied the salvageable frozen meats into the deep freezer in our garage.
Then it happened.
I rediscovered in our nearly empty kitchen freezer 
nineteen miniature Butterfinger candy bars, hidden in there, 
cold and perfect and immoral,
waiting for the moment when I would need them most.
Which is now.
The End.
Wishing You Cheap Appliance Repairs 
and a Perfect Chocolate Rediscovery Right When You Need it Most 
xoxoxoxo

Senses Inventory: Friday of Possibility

   By 9:07 this morning I had finished my strongest run of the past week, 
started a big load of laundry, fed the animals, 
and fought off no fewer than six moments of deep despair 
over things beyond my control. 
Walking back outside with my last cup of perfect coffee,
I noticed the sky was different. 
I remembered a recent love letter from my husband. 
And I saw the day ahead of me as a clean canvas. 
Giddy over this complicated spark of energy 
cupped in my hands like that fated Baby Bumblebee 
that is always getting carried home to someone’s mommy, 
I sat down to take this inventory.

Seeing:  Metallic gold and silver clouds filtering the brilliant sun in the east and low, dark purple clouds sheathing the sky in the south and west. More pools of shade on the ground than I have seen here in weeks. A giant red wasp hanging the air above the water sprinkler, which is providing a wet playground for our five geese and occasionally a few of the chickens. Shimmering wet grass beneath all of this activity. Big trees waving their leafy arms at the new day. Four leggeds calmly finishing their breakfast.
Hearing:  The chit-chit-chit and then the giggling spray of the helicopter water sprinkler, the authoritative drone of the pool pump and too-loud suction noise of the filter there. Chickens clucking, geese whining, and guineas doing their necessary battle over property and sex. (They can’t live with each other; they can’t live without each other.) Locusts filling in the gaps between all of these sounds, a constant humming backdrop that feels meditative today, not desolate.
Smelling:  Sunblock. Sweet, sharp horse manure. Something full of pollen in the flower bed behind me. And dirt. I love being able to smell bare dirt. It smells clean, which is funny.
Tasting:  Salty sweat when I lick my lips and the last long swallow of sweet coffee, cold now because I have let it sit on this patio table too long while I soak up my surroundings. But it’s still delicious, and I can chew on the grounds that have fallen to the bottom of my cup.
Touching:  Breeze! An almost cool breeze, refreshing and light, not like the furnace blast we are so used to feeling these past few weeks. I still feel heat on my bare skin, but it’s comfortable at this early hour, still that pleasant summer heat that makes me want to invite all of our friends over to cook steaks and watch the fireflies come to life. The kind of pleasant summertime heat that makes me glad for bikinis and chlorine, watermelon and sweet iced tea. I also feel the rough plastic of my sunglasses’ arms behind my ears, where I have probably held them carelessly between my teeth. And I feel the excellent plush lawn chair cushion holding me firmly in this moment.
Thinking:  About the power of positivity, of gathering together your strengths rather than all the time searching out and magnifying your weaknesses (and those of others). Thinking of the gardens, of how many weeks might be left before the beautiful transition to autumn veggies and fruit orchard work. Thinking of my Mom and what it was like for her when I left home. Thinking of how much I have in life versus how much I give or produce.
Feeling:  Relief to have spent time with my girls yesterday, to see them so healthy and vibrant. I hope they are as happy on the inside as they appear to be on the outside, and I hope they know the truth of things despite some ugliness surrounding them. I hope they don’t mind resembling me so much, as sometimes teen aged girls hate to look like their Moms. Feeling worry for my sister and her children, confidence in my husband, excitement over a new writing project, and an overarching, belly trembling hope for our immediate future. I feel happier and more stable than I have in a long time.
Here at this farm we are not without problems, confusion, grief, or failure..
But we are so flooded with help and miracles!
We are steeped in natural beauty that reminds me of this grand design.
We are given morning after morning to start fresh, to enjoy the small rituals all over again, 
to try once more to not only get things right but also to build things up.
We are surrounded by good, strong, smart people who despite our failings… love us.
And together we keep circling this dream and this root of love 
that is worth everything.

Wishing You a Perfectly Love Filled, Miraculous Weekend!
Take a Minute to Notice Your Beautiful, Unique Life.
xoxoxo

Chicken Caesar Po’ Boys and a Glitzy Grimy Cafe

   Okay you guys, last night our supper was another Nawlins-inspired recipe, something (sort of) healthy and high in protein so we could feel better about polishing off those Pecan Pralines. YUM. This meal was neither complicated nor terribly original, not really even Cajun, but for Handsome and me it will always evoke good memories of a special meal in our favorite city.

   The place where we grabbed this meal is called Angeli’s on Decatur. Like most spots in the Quarter, it is very, very old. It boasts exposed beams and peeling paint, happily chaotic gallery walls made up of mostly Mardi Gras images, and over-sized mirrors. Late each evening, one plainly painted wall in the dining room is the screen for playing old projected movies. How cool is that? But my favorite part is what hangs from the ceiling…

   Multiple disco balls and star shaped, glittered lanterns strung up in constellations all over the room deny the age and shabbiness of the cafe. This much careless, happy contrast pleases me deep in my belly, and I plan to copy it pronto, Tonto.
   Okay, here is the food… Handsome ate his in Po’ Boy form; I ate mine as a breadless salad; and soon we both pushed away our plates, stuffed. But not too stuffed for another Praline. Duh.
This is a recipe approximation… All you do is…
  • Season and grill some boneless-skinless chicken breasts then chop them into bite sized pieces…
  • Then in a large skillet, heat up some olive oil for re-warming the chicken I had grilled mine earlier in the day and cooled them, to avoid the heat of the evening…
  • Along with the chopped chicken, add to the skillet a third of a bottle of Caesar salad dressing and stir it all up, heat it through, etc. This worried me at first but it doesn’t burn at all. And it smelled delish, baby. The aroma drew Handsome in from the green room during an episode of Storage Wars. This is a big deal, you guys.
  • Split, butter, and toast a simple French bread loaf. Layer it with ribbons of cold romaine lettuce and then top with the hot, dressed chopped chicken. I added to my salad a handful of cherry tomatoes from our garden! No extra salad dressing needed, because the chicken was so moist and flavorful.
  • We also ended up adding Parmesan cheese to our respective plates, the super classy kind that comes in a green plastic can. Because we are very high falootin folks.
   That’s it! We loved this even more than the original and will end up adding it to the main menu rotation around here. I’m excited about having a satisfying, nourishing meal that has this kind of emotional value, you know?
   What are you cooking this week? What memories does it evoke?
“Memory is always faulty. Emotions are always true.” ~Anonymous
Gently Wrap and Preserve Your Best Emotions
xoxoxo  

New Orleans Style Pecan Pralines

   After any trip to an unusual place, but especially after every trip to New Orleans, I come home full of cravings and ideas and this insatiable desire to adapt those things to my own to my home. Or my home to that town, or whatever. The urge covers everything from recipes to decorating ideas and (of course) gardening. Once in a while I get lucky and discover some foreign treasure that both Handsome and I would like to enjoy again, as is the case with Pecan Pralines.

   Last week in New Orleans, while strolling somewhere between downtown and the French Quarter, we followed our noses past the raw sewage (an unfortunate fact of life in some parts) and into a heavenly cloud of butter and sugar and toasted pecans and other wonderful fragrances. We cruised a glass front case that had been stocked with every imaginable variation of praline possibly known to man. We watched someone making the pralines fresh. And then we sampled tiny little crumbs offered by a temptress in a cotton apron, both of us staidly acting as if we still might not actually buy anything.

L O L

   So anyway, ten minutes and eighteen dollars later we emerged from the store with a box full of various candies, sealed with a pretty little foil sticker. I may or may not have felt panicky over the long walk back to the hotel. Will they melt in the box? What if we get mugged? I feel faint, I think my blood sugar is low. We better stop and eat all of these right now, just in case of all that. I definitely said most of this out loud.


   I am fairly certain my husband took a deeper breath than he actually needed, and he purposefully did not make eye contact with me.


   We each ate one praline as we walked through the skinny, bricked streets lined with book stores and art galleries. None of the other pralines melted. We certainly did not get mugged. And my blood sugar has not been low once since that heavenly day. That is how powerfully sweet these things are.

   I was shocked and delighted that Handsome liked this delicacy enough to want more. So when we got home I suggested he look up some recipes, and within a few minutes we had agreed on the first one to try. You can find it by clicking on this link.  It is perfect. PERFECT. I do not need to try any more.

   

   If you own a candy thermometer; if you can gather six basic pantry supplies; and if you have half an hour to spend in the kitchen then another half an hour to let these firm up, then you too can have New Orleans style Pecan Pralines. I pinky promise you this. I am not really known for my candy making skills, but I must say that this was super easy. It was even easier than making cookies, and much faster. Go figure, since it hails from the Big Easy, right?

   The photo above was taken immediately after I spooned the hot mixture onto waxed paper. The pralines look extra dark, almost like chocolate no-bake cookies, but that changes.

   A couple of hours later they were sturdy, flat bottomed, and that believable golden pecan color that makes me miss my Grandma Stubbs.
   As I write this, the time is 2:46 p.m. I have already eaten two pralines since lunchtime, and my blood sugar levels would probably give a hummingbird the shakes. That weird but wonderful sensation is the only thing ensuring that my husband will have pralines to eat when he gets home from the Commish. It also means I will never be making this recipe while he is out of town, because basically I don’t trust myself.
   More Nawlins stories and inspiration to come, I just had to share this with you guys real quick.

Eat dessert first.
xoxoxo