no. sleep. till brooklyn!!

Hello friends, hey! We’re coming up for a bit of air, and I am happy to report that said air is thick and warm, humid, cottony, and scented with both chlorine and coconut suntan lotion. We are in the happy grip of a true blue Oklahoma summer, and I love it. Handsome and I have been enjoying and working away at an especially heavy schedule lately, the kind that occasionally makes you want to ask someone, “Are we there yet?” But every single time we check in with each other about the calendar, all the work that is attached to our various events, and just how we are each doing in general, we always land on this conclusion: It is all such life-affirming stuff. We can’t get enough.

I have some serious introspection worth sharing soon, about the nature of upheaval and how we humans cope with it. I also have a few book reviews to share plus behind-the-scenes stories about one of the happiest friendship events in my life. We have animal anecdotes, favorite new recipes, and encouragement to keep praying because miracles have been sprouting everywhere we look. By the time I edit and post this, our local family will have celebrated Mom’s 68th birthday!! So hopefully I have photos of that fun gathering to share, too.

Overall, life is good. So good. Mouthwateringly good and beyond my wildest dreams. I want to install a cattle panel fence around this exact summer, right here and right now, and grow flower vines and miniature pumpkins on it. I know summer will pass eventually, so I want us to remember that it will. I want us to see the flower vines on our periphery and let them turn our attention back to everything closer to us. Okay.

For some reason, my parsley has been growing like gangbusters. It’s the curly kind, almost stiff with a lovely dark green color and punchy flavor. It has proved to be useful in all kinds of ways in the kitchen, most notably: As a final ingredient in our Hawaiian macaroni salad, served cold, for the Oklahoma Luau last week. And on top of every bowl of pasta I eat, since my basil is being pouty and dramatic and not amazing me just yet. Yesterday, I cut several thick bunches of this unstoppable parsley for a huge batch of homemade tabouli, for Mom’s birthday dinner, and it was perfect. Should I also have added fresh mint? The recipe says to, but I shied away at the last minute.

The March Peeps are now bona fide hens. They are free to live among the flock now, and accordingly they roam the farm during daylight hours. By roam I mean that they scurry and flutter, chasing each other and pursuing ever more interesting goals. More often than not, you can find them in my big vegetable garden up front, hunting and playing tag between the cosmos and zinnias. Jennifer, the taller of the two blondes, is a standout grasshopper huntress.

Handsome has been spending a little more time each week out in his new office. Klaus joins him for long stretches of time, which is great except for the fact that Johnny Cash (Klaus’ gander) does not understand where his sunshine napping buddy has gone. Their sincere attachment to each other is pretty cute.

Books lately: Of course, The Emotional Side of Money bears discussion, as it was the whole reason Suzanne came to town and we threw the Oklahoma Luau dinner party for Tari, its brilliant author. It was an enlightening and thought-challenging book, and I highly recommend it. Full, proper review coming soon. I have also recently devoured Remain, an unusual supernatural romance coauthored by Nicholas Sparks and M. Night Shyamalan. I liked it. I did not love it, but it was interesting, mostly because the authors traded the disciplines for which they are each best known. Alex and I have been reading parallel adventures through the magical-realism modern classic One Hundred Years of Solitude, and friends, let me just say: The prose, the sentences themselves, and the actual fragrance of Gabriel García Márquez’s skillful writing are beyond compare, but the story itself is stressful to me. I can read through it a chapter or so at a time, then need physical distance from the book. I have never experienced anything like this before. To reset my nervous system, I am indulging this week in Theo of Golden, perhaps the most recommended new novel in recent memory. I had started listening to it on a run about a month ago and knew immediately that it was the kind of writing I would want to experience with my eyes (and a pen for underscoring my favorite turns of phrase), so I stopped the audiobook before chapter one was finished and ordered a paperback. I have been delaying this read for weeks, as a reward for finishing a list of overlapping projects in late May and early June, so reading it in the pool has felt like a summer vacation treat. It is as luscious as I hoped it would be.

I had a day recently when I realized that I had abandoned almost every single one of my private rituals for maintaining good mental and emotional hygiene. I did some navel-gazing about why that happened, but more importantly, I just started again. I unearthed a prayer and dreams journal that has been precious to me for several years, and I started again on this certain kind of meditative, cognitive reframing and sort of an emotional conditioning routine that I used to find very helpful. Less than a week into simply returning to this beautiful center, and I truly feel more like myself than I have since last July. Maybe longer. This all reminds me that it does not have to be complicated. It does not have to take months and years. And you do not necessarily need to outsource anything. Oftentimes, the wisdom and guidance you need has been nearby all along, ready to be accessed. Which reminds me to nod again to Return to Love by Marianne Williamson, a life-changing book.

We see answered prayers everywhere we look. Jobs fought for and won. Good jobs, detailed requests well tended. Beloved animals healthy and thriving, feeling loved and peaceful in their liquid black eyes. Relationships supple and vibrating again. Families marching on through time in their unique stories. Babies being born when it seemed impossible. We see financial surprises and relief, sustenance and creative inspiration, in every direction. I am tempted to chalk a lot of this up to the vibrancy of summertime in Oklahoma, but I know it’s much more than that. I know it is God moving where we allow Him to, pouring out His abundance when we stop limiting His power and generosity. (Note: It’s not enough to believe that He can. We must also trust that He will.)

How are you right now? Where are you on the spectrum of fear and trust, or what is your most dominant emotion lately? Can you name your joys, and do you feel in control of their cultivation? Or at least some agency over it all? What books are you reading, and which herb is growing best in your garden? I didn’t even mention to you my dill, rosemary, oregano, and thyme. They are my silent partners, and I love them as much as the basil and parsley.

We did not get a single photo of Mom’s birthday dinner, but it was wonderful. We stayed in the moment and never dug out our phones for photos. We are very lucky kids to have her and Dad still at the helm, and I treasure every single gathering.

“Actually? Don’t be low-key. Be high key.
Be all the keys. Playing it cool really isn’t
as cool as you think it is.
Get caught caring.”
~Rainier Wylde
XOXO