Lazy W Marie

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

romance right now

Happy Valentine’s Day, friends! Is your romantic celebration looking different this year? Ours definitely is. And I actually love it.

My husband has been working extraordinary hours this month. His normal Commish responsibilities, plus the weight of legislative season, all compounded by the ongoing complex problems brought to the utility industries by this crazy weather… The man is giving it all, 24/7. Although we have been together at the farm pretty solid since mid March of last year, these recent weeks he has felt a bit absent. Even when he emerges from his upstairs office, he is barraged with phone calls, texts, emails, and ongoing new emergencies at all hours of the day, every day. We never know how much down time we are going to enjoy together.

This may sound a bit grueling for our marriage, like a low key complaint, but that’s not at all how I mean it.

Not only am I immensely proud of the work he does, and the fact that he is happy to pour himself into it, but also I see a few beautiful daily constants remain for us:

We always drink coffee together in the morning; we never miss dinner together; and we always go to bed at the same time. There are plenty more sweet, unexpected ribbons of time together throughout each day, for which I am thankful, but the other day it struck me that those three rituals seem to be non negotiable. What a gift.

I am thankful that we have such a well established rhythm and harmony, so we can absorb disruptions of every variety and remain in step. I am thankful that our feelings come from somewhere deep, like abundant well water, rather than from intermittent rainfall. We can keep up with shifting circumstances, and I love that.

This snapshot was taken in the French Quarter at a very cool little artists’ walk we both love. He was refusing to let me smooch him like I wanted to. Then he grabbed me and held me up in the air. xoxo

For posterity, I feel like documenting what romance looks like this Valentine’s weekend, in pandemic, during an historic winter storm, while my man is purely exhausted from his day job:

Romance in times like these can look like chopping the frozen pond and troughs several times per day.

It can look like taking overlapping conference calls in ear buds so he can drive to town and buy horse blankets because his wife is worried sick about Chanta and Dusty.

Romance can be grocery shopping together well ahead of the snowstorm and unceremoniously handing each other boxes of chocolate to take home, then laughing out loud inside our masks like it’s the best joke ever.

Romance, in fact, is laughing together every chance we get, at anything we want. It’s also watching documentaries together, and freely criticizing strangers who join cults.

Romance is trading prayer requests with each other, for the people each of us talks to separately, as well as updating each other on good news and difficult news. Romance is counting our blessings as if it is the counting of them that makes them real.

Romance turns out to be old school, crayon-decorated coupons for massages that he is too tired to give and future outings that we cannot guarantee, because the tradition is old and good and happy. Romance can be homemade brownies filled with chopped up candy bars. Steaks that are sort of shaped like hearts and layers and layers of silky, fuzzy blankets.

Romance is obsessively loving every single animal together, so much. It is wearing your black felt cowboy hat and winter coat with the upturned collar (so sexy) to gather shivering ducks so they can warm up in the bathtub and then cuddling an overly attached a cat who won’t stop fake nursing our blankets. Romance is clearing ice from horse hooves even though your sweatpants are making you crazy and your eyes hurt.

Romance is troubleshooting every single cool breeze you detect and investigating every sound that might be a troubled pipe.

Romance is checking on your friends together and being proud of the kids together.

Romance is selecting television distractions that won’t drive your wife too crazy and playing UNO even when you are dead tired and she mostly wins. : )

A different hat than he gets to wear this week, but honestly he wears them all so well.

Sometimes romance is jewelry and rose bouquets, fancy restaurant dinners and cologne. But we have no need of that stuff now.

Gulf coast getaway 2019

Soon, babe, we will get dressed up, go out on the town, and maybe even travel. Until then, I am happy to get bundled up and care for the farm together.

I am so happy to cook our dinners and desserts here, take hasty hot showers to protect the septic field, and live thereafter in soft pajamas. These nine acres are paradise to me, and you make it all better. You embody all the romance in the world, and I am so glad you are still my Valentine.

NOW DRAW FOUR BITCHEZ
XOXOXOXO

an army of love & we will survive

A quick word of encouragement before we all pursue our own strange and unusual Pandemic style New year’s Eve celebrations.

This week on the treadmill I rewatched Searching For Bobby Fischer, and a scene near the end of the movie reminded me of something Jessica said this summer.

The scene was when the little boy was nearing this climactic championship chess game and nervousness had overtaken him. He was no longer playing for the love of the game (a whole other excellent topic), and he was terrified of losing to the new prodigy on the block, a very real possibility. Slowly, the camera showed us that not only had his Mom and Dad found their common ground and rallied to support him together; but also his speed chess friend from Central Park (presumably a bad iunfluence) and his more disciplined, traditional teacher (highly competitive and previously sworn off of attending touranemnts) had come together. All of them were there cheering for him, supporting him, hanging on every move, and fascinated by his magic. But the best part was that they all clearly, finally, loved him regardless of both the outcome and his methods; and all of their personalities assembled and combined to become this formidable wall of Love.

An Army of Love, is what Jessica called it back in June.

Two or three days after her Dad died, observing the constant and drenching tidal wave of support she and Jocelyn were receiving from loved ones from whom they had previously been alienated for so many long years, she said that she suddenly saw everyone as an Army of Love surrounding her and her sister. I soaked that up and told her gently that we have always been here, all along.

I believe firmly that we are, each of us, buffered and strengthened by an Army of Love; maybe we just need to look around and see it. I believe in supernatural forces that protect us, inspire us, make us better. We can survive anything. We can draw on the various strengths and gifts of the Army of Love dedicated to our well being. We can also live in ways that make us worthy of being in someone else’s Army of Love, for their survival and well being. We are made for community, and we all thrive in it.

Okay, that’s it for today. Thank you from deep in my heart for reading here all year long, friends. Thank you for sharing your stories and listening to mine, for being such strong, shimmering conduits for Love. I wish you all the very best of the coming new year. You will survive anything.

“Infect em with love”
XOXOXO

forty seven years and many more to go

On this cold and variable autumn weekend in late October, my beautiful parents are celebrating their 47th wedding anniversary. Rumor has it they stole away to their own backyard for a brief and covid-friendly date night, which is to say that they are finally getting a room. Get a room guys! hehe

Mom, baby me, and Dad, circa 1974.

My parents married especially young and had me almost immediately, then they had four more kids who were also, well, pretty good, depending on who you ask.

Genevieve, me, Angela, Philip, & Joey (not in birth order or coolness order either)

All my life our parents have been the young parents in every crowd, and I have loved it. I grew up very accustomed to my female friends having crushes on Dad and my male friends having crushes on Mom (a particular devastation, though, when I reached the age to have crushes on those boys). Moreover, I always just felt like part of them. No kids remember life without their parents; but I felt a unique sense of almost kinship or camaraderie because we were relatively close in age. Understandably, they were less advertisory about this fact to the world at large. I suppose, especially in the 1970s, people might be judgmental and have plenty to say about it. But I was always proud of them, and I still am.

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to answer a question about their youth, when I posted about Dad’s 63rd birthday. A new Facebook friend noticed the narrow age difference between Dad and me (I am 46), and I quickly confirmed it. I am never shy about this. I said that yes, they were very young when they married, and the five of us kids have been the luckiest kids ever for their love and devotion, not just to us but to each other.

Growing up with young parents was gobs of fun. They were energetic, playful, driven, attentive, hard working, and always up for every good tradition, big and small. They fed us healthy food every single meal, read aloud to us and in front of us, took us on all kinds of trips, threw countless parties, fixed our cars, made us laugh, connected us to family and friends at every turn, kept us in Catholic school whether we deserved it or not, and endured all of our adolescent weirdness and young-adult griefs. They gave us everything, most of it made from thin air, and I honestly do not know how they did it. What I do know, in my bones, is that our charmed and beautiful family life was a product of sheer will, determination and, yes, passion (get a room).

The older I get, the more I realize how lucky we are to still have our parents alive and healthy, still married, and still celebrating their anniversary in personal, unique ways. They still tease us and feed us. They still laugh hard with us and read books and ask us what we are reading. They still try to get us all together as often a possible, whether it’s a weekend cookout or a special group travel plan or, during pandemic, a family Zoom. It sometimes makes me cry thinking of how much of their human lives have been spent, literally, on us.

group candids = the best

We have received the full force of their loving personalities for forty seven years, and now a whole batch of grandchildren are soaking it up, too. Maybe soon, great grandchildren.

Seeing Mom and Dad celebrate privately now, and seeing them enjoy their home in this brand new chapter of middle aged romance, is lusciously sweet.

The photo above is from when Mom and Dad renewed their vows in the Church. (Their first wedding was several years prior, and before Mom took her Catechism and joined.) See Mom’s wedding band on her necklace? My memory is that she and Dad both wore their bands this way for several months leading up to the ceremony. It was a very intentional second engagement, something they didn’t experience the first time around. I think about this all the time.

Mom and Dad, you never pretended like marriage has been easy, but man, you have made it look so completely worth all that was asked of you, and that is inspiring. Wildly encouraging. We might never really understand how hard it has been for you, or what you have sacrificed to be our parents. But we hope to have many decades still to say thank you and to encourage you to live life for yourselves as much as possible. Your efforts have not been in vain. I hope you feel as much joy and satisfaction, as we all feel gratitude. I hope your backyard pandemic-style anniversary celebration was romantic and happy!!

“You come from a long line of effort.”
~Mickey Sperry
XOXOXOXO

23 blessings on Jessica’s 23rd birthday

Jessica Michelle… on your twenty-third birthday, I send you all possible wishes for deep, abiding joy, for a long dose of something similar to the joy you take with you everywhere you go. I wish you the best life has to offer, now and always. Here are some specific blessings I am asking for, prayers I am saying over your beautiful life:

  1. May you always have enough water tanks and terrariums to shelter all the orphaned turtles that cross your path. And may Bean never get nipped on his perfect snoot.
  2. May you always find time to cook good food, slowly, sensually, applying your great talents and affections to meals meant for people you love. May you also cultivate the joy of cooking for yourself.
  3. I hope that you soon replace the houseplants that were recently upended and devoured by your neighbor’s pigs, two amazing animals who you loved instantly.
  4. I am confident that your path is already anointed, that you will find your way through college and medical school and beyond, that your dreams and purposes are fulfilled in ways that are unique to you. Remember we are here to help you.
  5. How wonderful that you are well on your way to being truly bilingual with Spanish! May you contunue finding joy in that pursuit then learn every single language that sparks your imagination and your cultural appetite.
  6. I wish you a well used passport in life, the moment covid-19 releases us all. I wish you one fine adventure after another, to all corners of the globe, both with friends and loved ones and alone. Both kinds of travel are important.
  7. I am praying for deeper healing than you have ever experience in your life, and you have experienced plenty already. I am praying for a dazzling, transcendant expeience.
  8. May all the things you crave, all the things you cannot stop daydreaming about, take shape right before your eyes. May the best versions of every desire manifest for you.
  9. I also hope and pray for you to know unexpected joys! Surprises that you could never imagine. Those are thrilling, and you deserve them.
  10. You are the kind of woman everyone wants as a friend. May you find the kind of friends you want, too, lots of them, of various depths and flavors and walks of life. Friendships of every duration, for each season. May you cultivate exactly the kind of village that your soul needs. May you always feel safe and like you belong. Because you are. And you do.
  11. Please let Bean come swimming again before summer ends. I am expecting that to happen. We miss him. (Oh we miss you too, you can come.)
  12. I pray that you discover the harmony between building your self sufficiency as a woman and living in healthy relationships, in community, with other people, because they are both crucial. The world needs well nourished, happy women, and the world needs tightly knitted communities.
  13. I pray that you know your worth, that you have a deep and unshakable sense of identity that noone (including me) can touch.
  14. You have such a green thumb! May your life always have space to grow things.
  15. May you and Jocelyn make time for each other this year, more than ever before. I pray for your sisterly bond to be galvanized so you can mourn your Dad together, however you need to, and so you can build new memories and share your adulthood as much as possible.
  16. May you continue to see with your wide open heart how loved you are by our big, unweildy family, how loved you have always been. How much a part of us you are, and always will be.
  17. May you learn to appreciate movies with subtitles but sitck to your guns about avoiding heat styling tools for your gorgeous mane of hair.
  18. I hope that on days you feel particularly drained or stressed or just plain grief stricken, you are surrounded by peace and affection. I hope that you get the quiet time you need, regularly, as well as the activity you need. You are such a good, intuitive caretaker; I hope and pray that you always receive the caretaking you need, too. Remember I am always here.
  19. Sprinkles! Fruit! Salads! Ice cream and shortbread cookies! Eggplant Parmesean! Homemade marinara sauce! Chicken noodle soup! Pot pies! Really good, authentic street tacos, pasole! May you always fill your belly with your favorite foods. It is one of life’s best pleasures.
  20. I hope you accept exactly the perfect amount of overtime at the hospital, no more than you need or can do in a healthy way, and just enough to enjoy your earnings.
  21. Keep painting and drawing. Keep creating. Write when it strikes you. Express every shade and nuance of your soul. I pray that you never put your pens or paintbrushes down for very long. It will keep your blood flowing.
  22. Stick with hope. Stick with forgiveness and peace and Love. These are choices only the strongest women can make, over and over again. I pray that in the deepest parts of your being, you find rest and trust in the overall goodness of life.
  23. May you always know God’s voice, the sounds that He makes just for you and you alone.
Jessica & Chole assembling egg rolls, Dante in the background.
My baby, also picking me some wildflowers, also Mother’s Day 2007.
sunflowers on Jessica’s 20th birthday

I love you more than words can say. Happy birthday my beautiful baby girl, now truly a woman. I am so delighted watching you live your life. My heart breaks for you in your giref, and it soars with you in your joy. Life is all of this and much more, every detail in between. It is all worth living to the fullest.

Just Keep Swimming
XOXOXOXO

true colors & tiny bits of happiness

“A wise man dyes events with his own color.” ~Seneca

For me this affirms the value of living authentically, of framing events and circumstances in ways that are productive, growth oriented, joy centered, and loving. Live with honest and truthfulness, sure, because we’re not talking about denial or avoidance; but do not live based in someone else’s story, someone else’s colors. We are not living that person’s life, and noone’s life is disposable. Every single one of us has a path and a purpose that is valid, worthy, and beautiful in its own right.

Just a few things to consider, friends, in case you are in the habit of dismissing your own worth or assigning your value or your understanding of the world to someone else. Own your truth. Color the world with your unique self, the fulness of it. No holding back, okay?

Best royal icing: one cup powdered sugar, one egg white, few drops lemon juice, food coloring. BAM. Perfect.

Okay.

Some quick farm news for Thursday!

First, yesterday afternoon I scoured the kitchen for leftovers and scraps then took all of it out to the front coop. Before emptying my big bowl dramatically, I tossed a pink-frosted, sprinkle-covered donut into the air. A demure little red hen hopped up and caught the sugary treat on its descent. Donut in her beak, she ran to the furthest corner of the yard and dove into it, all by herself. Made me so happy.

Second, today at 11:47 a.m. I touched Little Lady Marigoild’s head. I was, regrettably, wearing gloves, but even through that barrier I could feel the smooshy wonderfulness of her fleecy noggin. She said “BLEEEHHH” and whipped her neck a few times, but she did not run away. Progress. Major progress.

One more thing:

Do you know how old my parents are? They are I called one of them but they put me on speaker and both talk to me years old. And I love it. I love it very much.

What small details are making your day extra nice?

XOXOXOXO