Lazy W Marie

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

You are here: Home / Home

Launching Our Own Food Miracles

   So, this new book I’m gobbling up has me thinking a lot about the locality, seasonal freshness and nutrition, and carbon footprint of the food we eat here at the Lazy W. 

   Before I go any further, let me state firmly that we Lazies are unlikely to undergo any kind of food revolution or take up any new environmental banner worth flying. I mean, not exactly. All I’m trying to do is raise our global agricultural and economic awareness a few notches and improve the health of our bodies and our soil as we go. Noble enough for this house. Plus, there’s the small matter of pursuing a private edible Eden like this one…

Pinned Image
   This morning I took my notebook into the kitchen and made a quick inventory of everything we had stocked between the freezer, refrigerator, pantry, and fruit bowls. I also tried to write down as many of the things we buy throughout the year that happen to not be around right now. This list was staggering. We are just two people, you guys, and the volume and variety of foods we keep near us seems gluttonous when viewed as a whole. I mean, really. Beyond that, I was more than a little shocked to see how much processed junk still lingers within our walls even after so many attempts to clean up our diet. But the point of this exercise is not chastisement and guilt trips but rather growth and improvement, so onward we go!
   The next step of the exercise inspired by Barbara Kingsolver was to examine which of our food stuffs is or could be produced more or less locally. I skipped the “is” question because deep in the recesses of my cheap skate shopping mind I already knew the answer. Let’s just say that I gravitate toward off brand labels. Lots of bright yellow boxes in my pantry, folks, and I am not really ashamed of that. 
   
   But the “could be produced locally” question was exciting. This was yet another time when being a native Oklahoman filled me with pride and gratitude. My home state is rich with agricultural bounty, so even those items which I myself have not grown or produced, I felt sure I could find them (or most of them) in some way nearby. 
   I sat down with a cup of hot coffee and, trying to ignore the guinea fowl chirping noisily at the window, began marking which of the 115 items* on my list could be moved from the shopping list to the production plan. It was as much fun as circling items in the seed catalog! 
*Note: Many of the 115 items I listed are just categories of things we buy. 
So many product variations exist in our processed food culture 
that I found it counterproductive to list every single thing.
This in itself could serve as a wake up call 
to how much money and energy we waste
in pursuit of flavor or convenience or both.

   Okay. My specific personal lists and plans may be of little interest to you this early in the morning, but I will say that the list of 115 store bought items was easily whittled down to 51. I found 64 edible items that could be produced here at this hobby farm or sourced right here in Oklahoma! Still more that remains on the list of 51 could be eliminated for the sake of efficiency, but that’s a task for another day.
   I definitely encourage you to try this  exercise yourself. It is fascinating to realize how many wonderful edibles can be grown, produced, or culled right from your own back yard! Search out other local producers with whom you might do some old fashioned bartering. Visit your farmers’ markets when they’re in season. Find a local orchard. Examine the meat markets. 
   These are all steps we can take toward healthier diets, more stable growing environments, and economies that are ever so slightly less dependent on fossil fuels. Plus, the pleasure of growing your own food is a known stress reducer, and gardens are proven value boosters for homeowners.
   
   Wow, I have no trouble at all finding a soapbox in the morning! Sheesh.
   In Zone 7 we are fast approaching the first of many planting dates, friends, so these are the scheming weeks. This is when we still have time to decide to fully maximize our dirt patches and become contributors rather than just consumers. This is when we drive to our local horse-chicken-and-buffalo-keepers and relieve them of a bucket or two of manure for our compost. (hint-hint)
  Urbanhomestead.org 
    We have snow on the ground as I write this morning. It is perfectly beautiful, and it is providing some much needed moisture to the pastures. But it also means I won’t be scooping manure or filling raised beds today, which is where my heart kind of sits. Perhaps this will allow some extra time to catch up on other worthy pursuits. All good things are seasonal, after all. 
Have a great day, you guys!
Whatever Your Passion, Dream Big!
xoxoxo

My Garden’s Pseudo Manifesto?

   I had already devoted myself to a more serious gardening effort this year, a deeper, more consistent approach to growing something as close to organic as possible, when I laid my dirty, badly manicured hands on this little book.
   Do you know that feeling when something big and meaningful suddenly clicks with a personal yearning you’ve felt for a while, largely unable to articulate it until that unpredictable moment? This happened to me today. My craving for seasonal, from-the-ground-up, healthy life and garden reconstruction has found a voice in Barbara Kingsolver’s 2007 book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. Or at least, this books speaks for a large part of my heart. 
   Earlier today while waiting for a cup of coffee to brew so I could warm up before heading back to the cold chores waiting for me outside, I picked up this book expecting to just skim a few lines. It had come highly recommended, after all, so I nabbed it at a book store recently but then just let it sit around in a pile of good intentions. Working with compost and animals all day had me more in the mood for garden talk and less in the mood for politicians (I have been reading Game Change, that 2008 election story), though, so I branched out. I ended up plowing through the first chapter without breaking a sweat, and with every page my agri-excitement built.
   Kingsolver was an accomplished novelist by the time she wrote this book, a non-fiction account of her family’s year-long experiment to become true localvores. So I sank happily into her style of expression which is mercifully free of pretension but rife with poetry. It’s just a lovely first chapter. Kingsolver makes a strong case for examining our food sources. She inspires fresh thinking about the nature of culture of any kind, in particular North American food culture or lack thereof. I am now even more fascinated  by the notions of environmental overdraft, the illusion of topsoil, food provenance, and being an agricultural agnostic. (Say whaa???)
   “Live each season as it passes; 
breathe the air, drink the drink, 
taste the fruit, and resign yourself 
to the influence of each.”
~Henry David Thoreau

   This has been a favorite quote of mine for a long time, but I usually groove toward it when the weather turns cold, reminding myself to notice the leaves’ color change, enjoy the fireplace, etc. But in terms of growing food and working more in cooperation with our environment than in competition with it (demanding for the sake of our mammoth appetites that we beat the elements into submission), Thoreau quickly reminds me to watch what grows here and when. Pretty simple.
   
   “Isn’t ignorance of our food sources
causing problems as diverse as
over-dependence on petroleum,
and an epidemic of diet-related diseases?”
~Barbara Kingsolver

   This isn’t meant as a book review tonight. I barely read two chapters today anyway. But I do feel more than a little bit magical for having thrust myself into this family’s story just as the Lazy W gardens begin to finish their winter dreaming. As I finish up my waning moon chores and wait for seeds and seedlings to arrive, I will be reading alongside the Kingsolver family’s monthly gardening tales and hope you guys don’t mind me sharing the comparisons.
   
This is really beautiful in every way.
I might need to have this framed in my kitchen, seriously.
   I was not exaggerating to call this stuff a meaningful yearning. Beyond the fun of gardening, beyond the superiority of organic produce, even beyond the arguable benefits to our global health by growing and eating locally, there is intrinsic joy to be found in this “hobby,” although I think that word is terribly weak. One last quote, then bedtime:
“Food is the rare moral arena 
in which the ethical choice
is generally the one more likely 
to make you groan with pleasure.
Why resist that?”
~Barbara Kingsolver

Why resist it, indeed?
xoxoxo

Waning Moon till Feb 22

   In this part of the world we had a Full Moon on Tuesday. That ended the most recent waxing phase of the moon and set us gently into February’s waning phase, which will last until the New Moon on February 21st. So for the next thirteen days (I am writing this a bit late) we are poised for a list of gardening chores that should really give us a good head start on the growing season! Interested? Cool beans.
   To review, the waning phase is when the moon is receding in fullness. This is when she is figuratively dormant or barren, lending energy to underground tasks, decay-related work, and bulbs and roots.
   In Oklahoma, we have a forecast of big winter weather this weekend, possibly a blizzard. So the confluence of a waning moon and the soon-coming need to hunker down clearly outlines my work for today and tomorrow. It’s funny how nature cooperates with herself, eh? This is what I need to be doing instead of reading and writing:
  • Clean water troughs and chicken pond. Refill all before freeze hits.
  • Clean chicken coop and replace shred, etc.
  • Scoop manure from fields for bagging and composting.*
  • Remove weeds and remaining dead tomato plants from flower beds.
  • Plant last minute daffodil bulbs.
  • Continue filling raised beds, lasagna-style.
  • Groom horses and make sure they’re warm.
  • Refill wild bird feeders.
  • If you’re brave enough, you might plant perennials & potatoes now, but it’s a bit too frosty here still.
   
   Once the waning work is done, this is one of the best times of the month to daydream and plan. Visualize your dream garden and put pen to paper. Order your seeds while they’re cheap and then turn back to the housework, because pretty soon it’s gonna be all about the garden again. Basically, I think for the waning moon you just focus on the words “dormant” and “underground.” Soil amendment, weed removal, animal nurturing, preventative maintenance… All those things which speak to you of closeness, quietness, and protectiveness, this is what to do until February 21st. Then, with the New Moon, we get to focus again on construction and creativity and above ground beauty! 
   
   Working in patterns and cycles like this is right up my alley. I feel so optimistic about the growing season this year! Are you a lunar experimenter too? I would so love to hear your ideas and advice. 
Trust Nature. 
Work Hard. 
Enjoy Your Days.
xoxoxo
*Incidentally, if anyone who is more or less local wants some excellent composting material, we have it! Organic, locally sourced, well rotted manure from chickens, horses, and buffalo ready to either spread or decompose at will. It’s especially great if you making your own soil.

Sweet Blog, Really? Aww.

   Well, well, well. I twice received this yummy looking “get to know ya” blog award this week from two very different and equally fascinating women. First Kat the dairy farmer’s loving wife and then Periphery, the eloquent and thought provoking monkey wrangler sent the following strawberry shortcake button. I suspect this was in order to test my bikini-preparation resolve. The whole thing was shrouded in ceremonious blog hospitality of course, but I have my doubts. We’re having company later today, and guess what I want to serve? Strawberry Shortcake. Thanks, ladies. Thanks a lot. xo

Part One: Seven Random Facts About Me. 

1.  I have broken out my two top front teeth a total of eight times between the ages of nine and thirty seven, but surprisingly I do not play hockey. All of those events were solo traumas, meaning that no other person was ever involved in any of the accidents. Meaning that I alone claim ownership of the klutziness. Meaning that when it happens and I get really super crazy mad about it, I have no idea where to direct my fury. Front tooth trauma hurts, you guys, and fixing it is mucho-dinero expensivo. Protect your mouths.

2.  I have a goose (actually a gander, but he has a goose’s name, Mia) who is more protective, jealous and territorial over me than any man has ever been over any woman. It is endearing and embarrassing all at the same time.

3.  I can more or less do a back bend but cannot stand back up from it. So I don’t do them very often. Because that’s awkward.

4.  I can whip up a pretty fierce Alfredo sauce but rarely know the exact balance of my checking account. Thank the sweet heavens above that I am married to a financial gangstah who also happens to thrive on Alfredo sauce. That worked out nicely.

5.  I love to read and usually have three or more books going at once, which drives my husband to the brink of insanity. Fortunately he likes to watch every possible incarnation of pawn broker television known to man, so I often catch up on reading during these time slots. And we cuddle. I groove this.

6.  If I suddenly, with no strings attached, had to choose to live anywhere else on this planet, it would be in New Orleans, Louisiana. While there I would touch the blooming azaleas, drink French roast chicory coffee, and watch the street performers between stops inside book stores and art galleries. I would soak up the jazz. I would occasionally dine with Anne Rice and make dandelion bracelets at cemeteries, but only in the daytime.

7.  I have discovered that separation from my nearly grown children is as brimming with lessons, comforts, and understanding as it is steeped in pain and regret. I see that as long as they are thriving, I can live with anything.

Part Two: My Nominations for This Award
I am tagging five people today.
 
New House New Home New Life: Heather captured my attention initially because we share one very particular, very unusual heartbreak. But she has kept my attention by being a passionate homemaker and gardener, two things to which I aspire in the thirstiest way. Plus she comments here frequently, which pretty much makes my day. xo

Carin my Swedish friend: Carin is a Swedish visual artist living in the U.K., and I love to soak up her ideas and read through her book lists and reviews, even if I’m not a scrap-booker and am unlikely to post crafts. Hers are inspirational! Also, when I read her comments as well as her blog, I assign her a lovely tea-and-crumpets accent. But I have no clue as to its accuracy or authenticity.


Lou Lou Sucre: This Southern belle has the most beautiful, most cleanly designed home and garden, and her blog is overflowing with eye candy for the real world. I have pinned more than a few of her photos to my Pinterest boards and am currently on the lookout for green wall platters like hers. It doesn’t hurt that she is a Louisiana neighbor. I love to hear gardening stories from people in similar zones.

My artistic philosophy friend from South Africa: Nadya. I would so miss her thoughtful contributions if they ever stopped. Her perspective (specifically, her willingness to gently challenge my perspective) is pretty much the reason I want to approach most topics in the first place. She first caught my gaze while I was browsing poetry and mandala art, then she led me through some yoga circles before I ever really tried it, and I see that we have a lot of the same reading haunts now. We are working out the details of a piece of commissioned artwork right now. I cannot wait to share that!

Fabulous, Healthy, and Loving It:  This young woman named Amy is a relatively new blogger who is driven to transform her health and her body, another something to which I aspire. Check her out, she is beautiful and has a great attitude!

Part Three: Share the Rules. 
We all know the rules.

Okay well I hope you have time to visit these five blogs. And I also hope you’re not bored to tears by my seven personal facts. I think after this everyone is yawning and in search of caffeine.

Happy Wednesday!
xoxoxo

Early February Senses Tour

   What a wide net of beauty and love we have around us right now. I haven’t participated in Monica’s 5 Senses Tour in a while, probably because the Small Stones project kept that thirst for observation pretty well quenched throughout January. But here we are a fourth of our way through the new month and my senses are overwhelmed again. Once more in need of lancing.
What I See: Patches of green clover and weeds interspersed with the dormant grasses. Small craters scratched into the earth by our chickens, revealing nearly black soil, crumbly and soft. Gorgeous new round bale of hay in the barn. New-to-us tablecloth we found at a garage sale this past weekend, a piece of round floral print cotton that I predict will become my favorite. At least for a while. Gray clouds covering the sun, dimming the early springtime, softening my gaze. New photos of my two beautiful daughters, faces that take my breath away. And possibility. I see possibility all around us.
What I Hear: Roosters crowing with serious joy every time they find new forage material. Geese screaming objections to every breeze. Horses exhaling and snuffling the afternoon into a soft, easy pace. Pacino preening himself before a full-belly nap. And I hear God whispering to me that He hasn’t let go, that He never will.
What I Smell: Fresh coffee in the kitchen. Vanilla candle next to me while I write. Tomato babies upstairs in the sunniest window. Buffalo manure in the front field, so strong today that is reminds me of the elephant house at the zoo. Skunk spray in the barn, which kind of smells good. And big, important changes.
What I Taste: Perfectly dark, fresh, hot, sweet, creamy coffee. And thankfully much less bitterness than I have tasted in months.
What I Feel: The grit of dirt under my fingernails from potting up tomato babies then playing with the cats. Thin cotton shirt on my arms. Crinkled paper pages and spiral spine of my planner. Romance in the air. And hope.
Feel Your World and Enjoy It.
xoxoxo
5 senses tour