Lazy W Marie

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

stress management, farm abundance, & the real vibrancy of love

Staycation Day Two: We reclaimed the whole point of being off work.

It almost never fails, that every time we anticipate a good relaxing stretch of days, something happens to jam up our chi. Sometimes it’s one huge crisis; other times it is the cumulative tide of smaller problems. I know this is universal. But this year, stress has been too damaging and joyful miracles too abundant for us to sit idly by and just allow the negative inertia to win. I mean, really, we should never allow it to win, right? But it happens. Stress is sneaky. But we are smarter and more resilient than everything that comes against us.

Ok, here’s the thing: Our air conditioning unit had some kind of catastrophic failure. Also, I skipped running some miles thinking that’s what my husband wanted (I was wrong), and it put me in a weird mood. Then he got chased by wasps. Three dumb things in a row, ok?

Happily, the burst open fly trap from last night is a distant memory, so the deck and pool area are no longer stinky. (And Little Lady Marigold has forgiven us wholesale, a fact she proved with an extra dramatic blaaaa-eeehhh at breakfast). But we are pretty accustomed to enjoying all the outdoor activities that cause heatstroke (swimming, gardening, playing in the car shop, chasing Klaus), if only so that we might retreat to the chilly, concrete-floored living room and watch a movie together. So we called a guy. We know a guy.

We called the guy then had an open, honest, lovely heart to heart conversation about not letting stress win and about transparent about what we need day to day, and we treated ourselves to lunch from Braum’s.

Now we wait.

My groom and I will soon have a cold house again.

So then we will go outside again, obviously. And he will promptly get chased by wasps. Again. You know how they say that the Universe continues to send you the same lesson repeatedly until you learn it? It’s more true than anything I know.

Mindset and intention matter.

The oregano and Rose of Sharon are especially magnetic to bumblebees. All day every day, the chubby, fuzzy creatures hover and dive noisily among the blossoms, reminding me that the garden is really theirs. The “High Biscuits,” as my girls used to call them, are stunning at the edge of the shade garden. Zinnia and okra seeds I planted a few days ago have already sprouted. I keep harvesting squash and tomatoes, fruits I could barely see a few hours before. The hens are happy to produce eggs, still, despite the heat.

It’s a thrilling time to live on a small farm.

Even the pond is full to it banks and wildly alive! Mama Goose and Johnny Cash, our two South African geese, swim gently like swans then run up the greenbelt of the middle field then feast on bugs in the garden then descend to swim again. They have wild visitors that include a blue heron and a small flock of white egrets. The horses take their fly spray contentedly, and the llamas are thankfully too relaxed to wage battle. Frogs, snakes, dragonflies, and spiders must number in the millions this year.

I love that our afternoons are too bone meltingly hot and humid to move quickly. The pace helps me see things.

This popped up in my Facebook memories from last summer:

Love is an actual cosmic power.
It is THE power.
Love overshadows everything else.
It’s not a flimsy, meek, gentle, water colored Victorian notion of hope for better days or a feeble turnaround.
Love is a loud, smiling, terrifying, throbbing neon bulldozer that, once unleashed, mows down every obstacle and razes mountains.
Love heals diseased relationships and connects people across oceans of separation, in unseen and truly mystical ways. Love provides for physical needs in ways that cannot be explained.
Love can be gentle, but it is never weak.
Love is the root of every good and beautiful thing, and it is the ultimate end of all difficulty too.
If you feel like love is just a lottery ticket, a slim chance at some kind of emotional or circumstantial lottery in life, try thinking more concretely. Think of Love as what encompasses EVERYTHING and ALL of your loved ones.
Trust all of that pulsing energy because it is just waiting to prove itself, for your sake.

Happy Sunday, friends!

kicking off anniversary staycation

It’s anniversary week! Tradition bears that we spend at least part of it at alone the farm, soaking up summertime romance. Late yesterday afternoon, Handsome signed off from his Commish duties until one week from Monday. Ten days off, very hard earned, wahoo!!

Ten days at the farm after 118, ha! Despite the obvious jokes about quarantine sameness and farm work being constant and a general inability to halt certain routines, we are pretty excited. This time together has historically been a special time to reconnect and recharge. I love it. I love him. I love us.

Day One:

Johnny Ringo the nursing cat makes cuddling an extreme sport.
LLM is baaing and approaching more bravely.

We slept until 5 a.m., drank coffee with Little Lady Marigold, and went to Walmart for pool chemicals and a few groceries. We also sketched out a list of random lists we want to share with you guys, to document our 19 years of marriage. We promise it will be just as boring as it sounds.

Midday, Handsome got the mowing done while I grabbed an hour of exercise (a mix of treadmill and gym today, while watching gardening videos). We swam at high noon, exchanged a couple of fun gifts, then retreated to the air conditioning when our skin hurt.

Handsome surprised me with this colorful area rug he knew I was loving.
Klaus immediately claimed it.

I got to enjoy an afternoon Zoom with my family to discuss Where the Crawdads Sing. So fun! And I appreciate our baby sister Gen for gifting copies of the book to everyone. Really generous! That’s the book review I recently promised, by the way, so if that interests you please stay tuned.

How fortunate are my siblings and I that we are all friends, and that our parents will join us in reading and discussing books, even during quarantine?! I just love it. They are both voracious readers. They always read aloud to us, our entire lives, and they read their own books and papers in front of us, too. It was just a very normal and constant part of life. I am super thankful that we can share it now, still, in new ways.

This evening we watched the new Netflix movie with Charlize Theron, The Old Guard. So good! Imaginative action movie with a surprisingly inspirational message toward the end. We both loved it, and I hope it is becoming a series.

How about one quick piece of salad advice before closing up for today? Instead of adding toppings to the top of your bowl of leafy greens, start with them. That makes them bottomings, I suppose. It makes all the difference!

Just get a much bigger bowl than you think you need, ok? Tonight I assembled a pile of chopped sweet peppers, cucumbers, and gorgeous garden tomatoes, also some cooked chicken breast, and let it all sit in the fridge with balsamic vinegar. While I cooked Handsome’s dinner, it all became extra cold and flavorful. Then I just piled it high with greens and mixed it up. So much better this way! The tomato juice and balsamic provided more than enough slickness and moisture to skip dressing, and all the chunky bits were findable with my fork. Like treasure.

One more story: Just before the golden hour while I was folding laundry from the clothesline into a big basket, my industrious and forward thinking husband tried to remove some very full fly traps (the water bag kind) into sealed trash bags, but one of them fell and burst. It was, even from a good distance, easily the most startling and psychologically unsettling odor I have ever smelled. EVER.

To his credit, my man stayed calm and cleaned it up quickly. But much more than a whisper of the offense remains. The llamas are sad now. The tomato vines wilted. The cats are in a frenzy over the smell, but they are too young to know why. I fear the Little Lady Marigold will take this personally, because it happened so near where we have been making such progress with intimacy.

Back inside, we almost got into an argument over who was yelling too much or stifling their yells or what, because in the midst of it all a worried, newly homeless fly tried to burrow in my ear while I was delivering leftovers to the chickens. I did not handle it well.

Staycation is going great! See you tomorrow!

“The man who does not read good books
has no advantage over the man
who can’t read them.
~Mark Twain
XOXOXO

nobody’s sad at hooters

Jess and I spent the morning together, handling some pretty heavy emotions and navigating startling black skies, shattered by webs of lightning. The weather came out of nowhere, like so many storms in her young life, and her sister’s.

Does anyone remember that wild hailstorm through which Joc and I once drove, on our way to Colorado? It descended out of nowhere, was violent and scary for a few minutes, then it ended just as suddenly. We had to look in the rear view mirror to confirm that we had, in fact, just seen it. There it was, behind us, and we kept driving. I will never forget it. It still reminds me how suddenly a life storm can come and go. How succinctly our traumas can be put behind us. Chapters close, and we move forward.

Back to this morning with Jess.

As our time together was winding down, we drove east across south Oklahoma City toward her house. I exited the highway, turned into a parking lot, and said, “I’m taking you somewhere.” My idea was to find a delicious treat at a really cute health food grocery store we both like, in lieu of eating brunch at a restaurant. (#covid)

The parking lot also fed into a Hooters restaurant. Jess very calmly said, “Oh you’re taking me to Hooters?”

I said, “Yes obviously. Nobody’s sad at Hooters.”

“Sounds perfect, let’s go!” Peals of laughter. Much more lightning. Even blacker, lower skies.

Brackish waters.

Was everyone in Oklahoma as surprised by today’s storm as we were? It built steadily then absolutely raged. We were braced for the Heat Dome of the Apocalypse, but instead, all of daybreak’s sticky blue atmosphere collapsed beneath black, woolly shelf clouds. We felt chilled. Even the biggest trees fell subject to straight line winds. Torrential rain, flash flood warnings, even one rumor of tornado conditions.

I can’t stop eating dried mango! Or pecan praline crumbs!

And if you could have any of the following iconic cars, which would you choose? I want the A-Team van, obviously. Fools pitied, and all.

Handsome is currently in the city for a few hours, then once he returns home we will begin our anniversary staycation!! Next week we will mark 19 years of wedded bliss and adventure. While it’s customary every summer for us to spend at least part of our anniversary week at the farm, doing our favorite staycation things, this is the first year that ten or so days “alone” will follow 118 days “alone,” ha! So more than ever I am taking a good honest look at how to be deliberate about quality time and relaxing together. The biggest difference of course will be that he won’t be spending the weekdays on Commish business.

I’m excited! We are definitely staying home, but somehow it feels like we are packing for a trip?!

This reminds me that I have been wanting to tell you guys about our game, “This Hotel…” It’s a way we encourage each other to more fully enjoy our home bound life. Rather than focus on the sometimes annoying facts of a relative quarantine, we try to magnify some of the hard work we do to keep things comfortable and happy, luxurious and fun for each other. Examples:

“This hotel has great coffee service. I love that they have it ready so early! Most place you have to wait until 6.”

“This hotel is so pet friendly, like really pet friendly!”

“This hotel has a really cute pool boy. I wonder if he gives massages…” : )

“This hotel’s nature walks and gardens and animal refuge are so relaxing, and we are so remote, it’s more private than I expected…totally worth the extra money.”

“This hotel has so many great snacks! I love that we don’t have to drive to town to find something. And I heard that they grow their own produce, and those eggs from breakfast were fresh.”

“This hotel has all the best movies, for FREE! And have you seen their free library? Any book you could ask for!”

“Ahhh this hotel has the best pillows. And so many extra blankets for when you turn down the air at night!”

“Did you see that on Tuesdays they have outdoor painting? And on the weekends they make s’mores and have storytelling around the bonfire? I think they have bicycles you can rent, too.”

“Free laundry service? This hotel is amazing!”

“I love the room service here. This hotel has great food. And And I love the boutique atmosphere. We can really be ourselves.”

You get the idea. It’s fun and silly but wildly effective. Try it! Staying home for weeks and weeks and weeks might have its challenges, but if you are diligent and imaginative about how you create and maintain your home, then, outside of actually experiencing a new city, home can far surpass any hotel. It just takes a little perspective shift and some silliness.

It’s now almost 2:30 p.m. The weather is calm. Our only storm damage is a toppled hammock. (#wewillrebuild)

Sadly, I have now eaten so much dried mango and so many bits of pecan praline that I must brush my teeth again. Wishing you the best Friday evening friends! Thanks for checking in.

Please remember that grief and joy can coexist
that you are strong
and that every thing is survivable.
XOXOXOXO

threshold magic

Seasonal thresholds always excite me. The shift in energy and the changing scenery, both in nature and in life, are powerful stimulants.  This recent slice of days, this threshold between summer and fall, has been brackish and wonderful. A stained glass window of work and gardens, of romance and books and socializing. I am smitten all over again, and autumn hasn’t taken hold yet.

On the very last day of meteorological summer we woke up early and decided with measured reluctance to close the pool. The chlorinated water had finally turned cold and cloudy. We gave thanks for a truly gorgeous, extra long summer then stretched the giant, crunching plastic blanket across and around the metal pool frame. We threaded the steel cord through the grommets, tightened it, and sighed audibly. The task itself was pretty easy, but saying goodbye to swimming season was less so.

Later that day we joined friends and strangers at Savory Spice Shop in OKC for their annual pie baking contest, definitely a seasonal treat and tradition worth keeping. The wonderful assault of fragrances aimed my heart straight at the best of autumn. Cinnamon! Nutmeg! Apples! Perfect, flaky crusts of every variety! Pecans!  My amazing friend Kellie won with her perfect entry of Bonaffee Pie, banana and caramel confection. Heaven in a pie plate.

 This past weekend, Handsome and I attended a storytelling event called “Ricochet,” in Oklahoma City. It was hosted by our friends Shanna and Ryan McKinley. I shared with a room full of strangers a pretty ridiculous true story of my own and thoroughly enjoyed hearing all the other stories. So fun! The recording will be on Ryan’s podcast and I’ll share it when it’s live!

We also hosted another community painting event in the midst of some intermittent sun showers. The afternoon was pastel and mild and had a suspenseful, magical quality. We enjoyed a more intimate group than last time and a smaller meal, too. The sun sank just as we were cleaning up, casting golden light on the easels as if that night was the first time a true Golden Hour had ever happened. Things felt weirdly perfect for those transitional days.

Things here are neither crisp nor cool, not yet, but at least we are no longer battling heat advisories. This kind of humidity is manageable when not in triple digits, ha. And around midnight tonight a much anticipated cool front just might blow across our beautiful state. Already the normally deafening frog song has quieted. Where did they go?

Fresh mums and pansies are sneaking into my flower beds, making friends with summertime’s zinnias, basil, and cannas. Tomatoes are still producing, and newly planted seeds have sprouted into tiny kales and rainbow chard plants. I haven’t bought any decorative pumpkins yet, but I have scooped up a few small green watermelons from the garden, just to display, knowing they don’t have enough time to ripen before our first frost. They kind of look like little gourds. Threshold gardening, friends.  It’s a thing.

Change is happening. Slowly and more slowly still, then all at once. We just have to breathe deeply and notice it all. Every day.

“See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.”
– Isaiah 43:19

Thanks to my local running friend Joe for sharing the above scripture at a most perfect moment for me. Autumn is its own elegant, wondrous time of renewal. Different than springtime. Mysterious and powerful. It’s good to be excited about it.

whoooooshing into summertime

On Friday morning I was blissing out, running east into the sun and against wind as hot and stiff as a blow dryer. It was the first day of summer and I luxuriated in every detail. I drank them in. Gnats perished on my glossy shin bones. Saltwater dripped into my mouth and eyes. I inhaled wildflower pollen and sunscreen and celebrated the heat rising up and pounding into my shoes. My work for the week was caught up, and we had a fun weekend planned. That previous night I had even dreamed of Jocelyn in that way that always reassures me she is okay and maybe even dreaming of me, too. I was smiling-with-my-heart-and-mouth-open while I ran, watching neither pace nor distance. Just happy to be on the go.

Then a whooshing, tttzzz-aaahhh sound assaulted my periphery from the left. The shadows were all behind me, and my music was a bit too loud, so all of my terrible reflexes ignited at once and I jumped mid stride, yelped, then screamed because my own yelp scared me, and all of this nearly caused an approaching female bicyclist to wreck. She wiggled on her two-wheeled vessel, gave her own little yelp, and stuck her muscular legs out to either side to regain balance. Her arms stiffened, and her helmeted head twisted to look back at me and, thankfully, laugh. We both started laughing so hard that I had to stop running to catch my breath. She pedaled away (almost) calmly down the trail.

About 45 minutes later my new BFF had changed direction and was headed toward me now. I saw her from a reasonable distance, started laughing again, quite involuntarily, and she also laughed a little but punctuated the whole exchange with a head tilt and Robert Duvall-style half-nod that said as plainly as any unspoken gesture can say, “Fool me once…”

Maybe she didn’t realize we were BFFs.

I regained my composure (mostly) and jogged in my very own lane past her, definitely surrendering the opportunity for some last minute eye contact. Still running into the glare, still lapping up my own sweat, still loving that so much hard work and consistent effort lately had brought us to the brink of a true summertime weekend. The luscious details are icing on a cake of Overall Life Satisfaction, and I am forever grateful.

I wish I could find this bicyclist and apologize for nearly wrecking her. And ask her if she is always so apt to being almost wrecked. I also want to know if she felt as happy that morning as I did, barring our near miss with asphalt. She definitely had that glow, that strong energy of Life Right This Minute, and I love thinking about it.

The End.