Hello friends! How are you? And how amazing that anyone is still here, after so many long bouts of radio silence, haha.
I have landed happily on a Tuesday with nowhere to go and exactly two important deadlines remaining, not a slew of errands facing me nor seven deadlines looming as has been the case lately. That means that for all the delicious foreseeable hours, I get to be at the farm. Luxuriate in home-bodiness. Write and drink coffee. Do yoga when I can’t think of the words. Rub lemon oil on wood furniture, rearrange tablecloths and decorative pillows, and light candles named “tomato blossom” (you cannot believe how good they smell). For today at least, I get to putter around in the flower beds, crawl into the caged veggie beds, and try to avoid frogs. Today I’ll do more than snap photos of all the lush growth outdoors; today I will tend things too. Later, Klaus and I will be in the Apartment sorting through attic contents and clearing the shelves so that we can fluff up that guest bed just in case.
The farm is a feast for the eyes right now, either just because it is or because I am so in love with it all over again. Handsome and I have been nibbling at projects here and there, getting things more the way we want them, more aligned with how we actually live here week to week, and it’s been deeply satisfying. The funny thing about this kind of progress, though, is that is causes me to want to leave home even less than before. My home-bodiness is getting serious, okay, and more than ever I feel like the days are too short, although really they are lengthening as we speak.
Bring on the summer. But slowly. Let her creep up on us, spread her gossamer veil over us, and linger a long time. Somebody steal her car keys so she has to stay until next year. Let’s get up early for strong coffee and a four mile run. Let’s do cartwheels, write stories, and play in the garden. Let’s swim and eat too much watermelon, watch movies outdoors even if there is an Old Testament amount of frogs here. Let’s count stars and blessings and weave dream catchers out of hula hoops. It’s time for chick-hatching and burger-grilling. Time for convincing husbands to go to the office early so they can come home early and watch technicolor sunsets with us. It’s time for cilantro and basil and honeybee meditation. Cucumbers and horse snuffles and friends and family.
Last night, rather unexpectedly, I enjoyed the deepest, most delicious boost of faith. It was very much like the proverbial well water, just quenching and refreshing in every way. To say that I feel overwhelming gratitude right now is such an understatement. I also feel overwhelming hope, mostly for our children. Our oldest is living so well in Colorado, so happily, that my mama heart is as full for her as the day she was born. And our youngest, against all evidence, is quite near to us. She is held so firmly in our thoughts and prayers that no physical absence can move her. Funny, isn’t it, how faith can change hands and lend from one blessing to another pain… just the right amount of strength.
Faith that moves mountains. Faith has been moving mountains in our world for years.
In my Facebook memories this morning I saw this quote from a few years ago about our tornadoes that year. Some far-flung person had said of our beautiful state:
I know why Oklahoma is so flat. Your faith has already moved all the mountains.
Okay, let’s go enjoy all the fresh herbs and rainy skies. Let’s do hard work and read great books. Cook food that nourishes both body and soul. Cuddle pups and romance boys.
Happiest of Tuesdays, friends.
“Slow down, you move too fast.
You gotta make the morning last…”
~Simon & Garfunkel
(Thanks to Emily Freeman for her encouragement on small-moment living in a fast-moving world.)