Lazy W Marie

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

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Dragonfly Summer

September 8, 2011

   We have some dragonflies at the farm.  I mean, we have a couple of hundred dragonflies at the farm.  At any given moment, but especially around sunrise and again at dusk, I can walk around and be buzzed and surrounded by every size and color of this fascinating, elusive little flying creature.

   Thousands of cobalt blue, red, emerald green, gold, black and white, you name it.  They are plentiful and graceful.

   In fact, just now I walked inside from counting three million dragonflies hovering over the middle field fences, and they were each a different color.  They were back-lit by the warm Oklahoma sunset, and they shrouded everything in effervescence.

   This many dragonflies is a big deal.

  Years ago Handsome and I spent a little energy immersing ourselves in Native American culture, and a lot of it has stayed with with me.  The traditions and folklore are just so beautiful and so respectful of nature.  I have found very little that conflicts with the Bible path.  In fact, what I have learned just reinforces everything I believe about God.

   Why do I feel such a need to justify my explorations?  Huh.

   Included in Native American culture is the tradition of observing your personal totems.  Curious?  Totems are animal identities that are supposed to be able to tell you about your personal strengths and weaknesses, your path in life, and your magic.

   Yeah, I said magic.  But don’t worry.  I’m not gonna cast a dragonfly spell or anything.  It’s fine.

   More than fortune telling, although I definitely see the parallel, animal totems offer us two-legged creatures a really interesting kinship with the animal in question.  We get to learn about that animal’s character and how it interacts with its environment and the universe at large.  If we’re sensitive and pliable enough, we can gradually learn how to apply that wisdom to our own lives.  God, the Creator, Jesus, however you identify Him if you do, created everything we’re discussing here, and I believe He has volumes of love and lessons to share in the relationships we forge with animals.

  Note:  Ideally, a person seeking his totem observes what animals are drawn to him, not just the animals to which he is drawn.  Otherwise my totem C-O-U-L-D be a monkey.  Which W-O-U-L-D be awesome.

  Also, a totem is not the group of animals that is captured and dependent on the human..  For people like Handsome and me who have purposefully acquired a variety of pets, deciphering between a possible totem and, like, normal daily animal traffic can be tricky.  I mean, we can’t really claim that our totem is a blue and gold Macaw when said bird is kept on a perch in the living room and is not exactly free to leave and return.

   Although I do think Pacino loves us enough to fly home should something terrible ever cause him to be lost.

   All of this is much different than the Chinese Zodiac, which installs into a person’s life the supposed and abbreviated traits of just one animal based on just the year the person is born.  I cannot get a groove on that at all.  Human beings are wonderfully complex, and my personal slant is that one animal could never fully illustrate one person.  But a collection of animals might make a dent, and so we have the Totem Pole.

   Anyway, the purpose of totem exploration is more of a self-discovery exercise, coupled with a deepening of your reverence for the animal kingdom.  The point is not to take another person’s declaration over your spirit as fact; the point is to sense for yourself what you believe to be true and what you can learn from the raw nature of another living creature.  Dive greedily into the many layers of all of God’s wonderful creation, all of these reflections of Him and His love and power.

   When I noticed that I could walk around the farm, all alone, and be surrounded on every side by dragonflies, I did a little reading.  Turns out its extreme sensitivity to subtle changes in the wind makes it more able to avoid storms and survive.    I cannot predict the future but have always had a good sense of brewing trouble or of difficult to describe danger.  The dragonfly is drawn to the water and mates there.  Ahem.  Let’s just say I love the water.   The image of the dragonfly is generally known to evoke dreaminess and imagination.  It is an emotional totem.  No mystery there, that I live in a bit of a dream world most of the time and am extremely emotional  Guess who will verify that for you.  His name rhymes with ransom.  

    In taking this deeper look, I remember times when I did not listen to that silent warning voice and suffered for it.  Or my loved ones suffered for it when I leaned on reason more than instinct.  So I shake off the weight of logic and process and instead try to hone that needed ear.

  Watching the path and pattern of the dragonfly, I realize that its lilting unpredictability is what makes it so  mesmerizing and effective.  It surely has purposes to fill and needs to meet but does so without rigidity.  It manages to trade a bit of structure for spontaneous movement and thereby accomplishes more than just living; it dances.  It glides around breezes and knows when to escape.

   A good warning is that dragonflies tend to drown in the water, the same element that gives them life.

   The incredible spectrum seen in these dragonfly swarms brings to mind a word close my heart:  Diversity.  I am reminded in them that beauty and vitality come in many forms and that they do not have to compete.  Instead, they complement each other.  They build a dazzling view and seem to rarely repeat.  This is my circle of friends.  This is the perfect aesthetic for life, allowing for color, texture, sensual living, and adventure.

   If wild monkeys start showing up at the farm, I’ll be sure to let you know what I am learning from them.  For now, this is a belly full of wisdom to digest.  What animals are drawn to you?  What can you learn from them?

xoxoxo

 

  

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Filed Under: native american folklore

Self Loathing Not Groovy

September 6, 2011

   
Check out the source of this wonderful artwork. Also directed there through Pinterest.
   What is it about words attributed to Albert Einstein that make me sit up straight and listen?  He is more likely to grab my attention than a bizarre hybrid of E. F. Hutton, Martha Stewart, and Jillian Michaels.
   Maybe it’s the fact that he’s touted as not only an intellectual genius but also a philosopher, humanitarian, lover of women, avid bicyclist, creative thinker, etc.  He was a well rounded (if slightly wacky) human being who seemed to have a knack for cutting to the quick of a body of knowledge and finding the essential truth hidden within.  The reasons why certain facts matter in the universe.  I mean, even people who will never study out Relativity can find a way to thread it into a world view.
   Okay, so apparently I feel the need to justify my affinity for Einstein wisdom.  It’s not like we’re quoting gospel here, or even Chuck Norris, and it’s not like I can personally verify that old Alberto even said any of the stuff I regurgitate.  There is plenty of room here for both debate and criticism, as always.  But still, he was smart, man.  Like, Jeopardy smart.
   Okay.
  Anyway I discovered the poster above on my favorite new eye candy site and had to share it with you.  Maybe you’ve heard the words before, but isn’t the illustration fabulous?  It really drives home  the point that diversity is a GOOD thing and that we are meant to be OURSELVES, not someone else.  Indeed, that striving to be someone else is wasteful, futile, and perhaps even fatal.  Haven’t our parents, guidance counselors, and after-school specials been saying this, like, forever?  
   Maybe so, except that eventually we get all homogenized and template-driven again, and before long we’re playing the toxic games of comparison.  Which lead to either pride or despair, neither of which is healthy.
Found eventually on a cool blog, but first through Pinterest.
   I personally, despite all of my bohemian tendencies, fall prey to those wicked games of comparison all too often.  I have spent years hating myself for not being a college graduate, a tennis player, or a person filled with the Holy Ghost.  I have hated myself for things within my control and without, running the gamut of possible topics from higher math skills to family relationships.  
   Recently I started loathing myself for the fact that I will never be a trendy, scrap-booking, home-schooling Mom.  Heck, I’m not likely to even be a car-pooling Mom ever again.  That SUCKS, and it makes me hate myself a lot.
  Over the years I have frequently questioned whether anything was left in me that couldn’t be found in other people, and WAY, WAY BETTER.*  You know something?  All of this dark thinking is startlingly universal.  We can all find reasons to detest the people we were born to be or have become.
   Even in small doses, this kind of mindset is incredibly poisonous.  Aiming our thoughts and the undercurrent of our imaginations toward what others are accomplishing and how we seem to fall short will definitely affect the momentum of life.  We may escape saturated despair, if we’re lucky, but our passion is unavoidably diluted.  Our potential is stunted by having siphoned off energy and creativity and love in favor of feelings of either inadequacy or superiority.  Again, I assert that these two sentiments are equally destructive.  They are opposite symptoms of the same ailment.
   What’s the absolute minimum fallout?  Oceans of missed opportunities.  Untold discoveries and eurekas missed because we are so busy seeking after someone else’s destiny that we neglect our own.  
   Even in efforts to distinguish ourselves, we can fall short.  We look for examples of what to do and how to do it rather than striking out and doing something that is from the wellspring of our own souls.  And yes, granted, our souls or personalities are composites of our accumulated experiences, but no two lives are identical!  Whatever similarities we discover in each other, how ever much common ground we tread, diversity and uniqueness pervade the human condition, it is MEANT to be that way, and I really really really wish we would all stop overlooking that.
   Right now, if Handsome is reading this, he’s thinking, “Then stop reading Pinterest and that one blog about the cowboy’s wife who cooks other people’s recipes that you know drives me insane in the membrane!  Be yourself!”  
    He’s so crazy.  Doesn’t he know by now that I’m a hypocrite?  
   This weekend a good friend of mine said it so perfectly, though in jest:  “I wanna be unique just like everybody else!” Seems like the context then was copycatting teenagers who wear jelly sandals, but really full grown women do it too.  And men.  Copy each other, not wear jellies.  Although they did make a brief comeback two years ago.
   So the next time you start to notice a difference between you and someone you admire and you feel like scraping your inferior forehead against a concrete brick, instead shrug your capable shoulders and say to your heart, “True Dat.”  And smile.  Because you are meant to be different.  You are meant to be you.  So get to being that, because the universe is counting on it.  We’ve been waiting on YOU long enough.
xoxoxo
* This is no way a cry for help or a solicitation for affirming words, just a perspective-rich observation of my own life, offered up for your examination.  Things are pretty groovy these days, and I know that even if I am never again a traditional lunch box-packing, home work-checking Mom, what remains is what is eternal.  What remains, as always, is love.

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Filed Under: thinky stuff

Joy Pockets Tres

September 2, 2011

   We’ve had a particularly busy, happy, productive week at the farm.  Even more so this week than most, probably.  I am so pleased to close up shop today with a few projects finally in the “done” compartment in my crowded mind, although I am stunned to realize that these whirlwind five days have suddenly brought us to almost dinner time on Friday.  My Joy Pockets are easy to count, as always.  For this I am so thankful.
  • We’ve been celebrating Handsome’s 36th birthday all week long, and we have had some serious fun doing so.  We are blessed with abundant freedom in our adulthood, incredible friends, and a good appetite for fun.  I hope he has had as much fun on his birthday this year as I have.  
  • Earlier this week I received an early morning phone call from my beautiful Momma, whose voice, affection, and laughter brighten my day like freshly squeezed lemon juice.  I realize that not all of my friends have their mothers still in their lives, and mine happens to be a very special woman, so I am doubly blessed in that respect.
  • We are thrilled to be sharing our home with friends for a few days, my blogging buddy The M Half and her Hubs, who happens to be an old school friend of Handsome’s, and their sweet and vivacious pup Rue.  (It may or may not surprise you to learn that she and I are writing in the same room at this moment, resisting the feathery advances of Pacino the Macaw.)  Last night we had the best time while our men and some other old friends played catch up on all the years lost.  We laughed until our faces hurt, we soaked up the vibes of friendship that has matured with adulthood rather than dissipated, and we got to see everyone in a slightly younger light.  Through the lens of teen years from back when we didn’t know each other, and that was cool as beans.
  • My transplanted tomatoes are thriving, and the pink roses are blooming again.  We’re still in a drought and heat wave here in Oklahoma, but early morning well water is doing the trick for now.  And our weather forecast has us anticipating a twenty-degree cool down in just a week.  That, friends, deserves to be on Joy Pockets ahead of time.
  • I am between book club assignments and also finished with previous reads, so this week and next I am indulging in a brand new author and a story about (big shocker) writing.

Look for a Review Next Week
 

  • I mixed and have been feasting on Roasted Olive Dip.
  • I got to hold an eight week old (human) baby for whom I am not even one bit responsible.  I got to sniff him and cuddle him and make him grin tiny baby grins.  I propped up his beautiful, wobbly head, sewed him a little shirt, kissed him good bye, and felt not even one scrap of longing for new motherhood.  It was a stand alone pleasure.  
  • A short list of sewing orders, which I had allowed to vex both my mind and my promises list, which affects my relationships, is now completed.  The relief of having these done and having happy customers cannot be overstated.
   This week sped by too quickly to savor properly in the moment, but looking back I see there is plenty (way more than I have shared here) to savor after the fact.  It was a week well spent and one that will fuel the coming weeks very nicely.  No complaints.
   

joy pockets

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Filed Under: Uncategorized

Roasted Olive Dip

September 2, 2011

   Company is coming!!!  We’re having a little dinner party, and I want to have this cold cheese dip ready technically as an appetizer but truly so I can snack indulgently all day leading up to the fun gathering.

   About halfway through making this exceedingly simple yet exceedingly decadent appetizer, I thought maybe someone else might want to know about this and make it.  We are, after all, fast approaching Labor Day weekend, a great time to roll out a snazzy new recipe.  This qualifies as snazzy in my book.

   You only need a handful of things from the grocery store and about half an hour in the kitchen plus a day or so to let the stuff meld its flavors in the fridge.  It makes you feel a little fancy to serve this, a  little bit gypsy or something.  Now while these ingredients are a bit pricey for one finished edible item, do try to factor in how far this goes.  One recipe will feed several people for two days or one very gluttonous girl for a week.  
What You Need:
   about two cups total of at least two flavors of olives (I use pimento-stuffed green olives and pitted ripe olives)
   a few Tablespoons of Italian dressing
   3 bricks of cream cheese (8 ounces each)
   2 small buckets of feta cheese (drained)
   dash or three of your favorite hot sauce
   a few shakes of garlic salt
What You Do:

  • First, let all of the cheeses come to room temperature.  Have you ever tried to stir cold cream cheese?  Nobody should be that strong.
  • In a 400-degree oven, roast the olives in a coating of Italian dressing, for about 20 minutes.  This smells incredible.
  • Once they are all roasty and tender and shriveled, pull them out and let them cool a bit.
  • Now coarsely chop the little gems and set them aside.
  • As thoroughly as possible, mix together all the cheeses and season with hot sauce and garlic salt, to taste.
Yeah, I use cheap seasonings sometimes.  So what?
  • Now just add the chopped, roasted olives.  It looks like edible confetti.  I swear, it makes me so happy.  And Handsome doesn’t have to worry about finding this particular confetti under the seat cushions or inside the fireplace.  Or in his hair.  Or in the buffalo’s hair.  Because we eat this confetti.  At Least I do…

   That’s about it!  Now I would place a sheet of waxed paper over the top, wrap it up in plastic like your life depends on it and abandon the fruits of your labor to the cold fridge overnight.  Serve this manna with crackers or just a spoon.  It is so good.

P.S.  This is what a pimento looks like when it’s about to explode.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized

Our Fave Chocolate Cake

August 29, 2011

   I suppose chocolate cake is one of those things that, barring an allergy or something, everyone craves now and then.  Around this house, Handsome requests it infrequently because it is so very, very rich.  When he does, though, it is with much insistence.  And it is a request that can only be filled with one recipe.  Never a boxed mix, and never with any deviations.  We had it this weekend to kick off his birthday week celebrations, and it was a grand success.  : )
   In addition to my man’s great appreciation of this recipe, which is enough to get me fixing it any time, we discovered early in our marriage that each of our families had been preparing it for generations!  This particular chocolate cake is one of the precious things that we held in common between our unique childhoods. That makes it double special.  Triple special.  Quadruple special.  
   My Momma got it from my Grandma, who I think received it from her mother in law.  Handsome’s Grandma Goldie made it all throughout his childhood, some say using cooked brown beans, a trick I have GOT to figure out, and I can only imagine how many generations back her cooking traditions stretch.  She was a beloved woman and famed home cook.
Here it is.
First, if you don’t have buttermilk, make some.  To one tablespoon of either vinegar or lemon juice, add enough whole milk to make a cup, and do try to measure better than I did.  Let it sit while you do other awesome kitchen stuff, so it will thicken up.  Presto, pretend buttermilk.  You’re ready for the rest.
Batter:  Make this in three parts. 
Whisk together 2 cups each of flour and sugar.  
In a saucepan, boil together these things:
   2 sticks butter
   3 1/2 Tablespoons cocoa 
   1 cup water
Then add that to the dry mixture and also add these things:
   1/2 cup buttermilk
   2 whole eggs
   1 teaspoon baking soda
   1 teaspoon vanilla 
Stir it with a wooden spoon till really really really smooth and satiny and gorgeous.
Pour this chocolaty blend into a buttered 9 x 13 baking dish.  Bake it at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes.
About ten minutes in, which is also ten minutes before the cake comes out, because ten is halfway between zero and twenty, prepare the fudge topping:
Sift a pound of confectioner’s sugar, which is about 4 cups.  Mom pointed out that sifting is key because otherwise you might have a hard time getting the final fudge mixture smooth enough.  She’s right.  Thanks Mom!  xoxo
Using the same pan as earlier, no need to wash it, cook these things:
   1 stick butter
   3 Tablespoons cocoa
   6 Tablespoons milk
Cook the fudge just to the boiling point.  Then remove from heat and add to a heat proof bowl of sifted powdered sugar.  Stir it like there’s no tomorrow and do not count the number of times that you absolutely must lick your fingers.
Now pour the hot, sugary fudge over the hot cake, tilt or spread it gently around, and let it relax at room temperature.  
   The final product should present a beautiful, shiny skin that is almost juicy when you sink your teeth into it.  This incomparable cake is super served with french vanilla ice cream and also incredible served cold.   Not too shabby when nibbled on the sly in the middle of the night, just walking by.
   How good does your house smell now?  You are welcome, and see you at the gym, baby.
Happy Birthday Week to Handsome!
xoxoxo

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Filed Under: recipes

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Hi! I'm Marie. Welcome to the Lazy W. xoxo

Hi! I’m Marie. This is the Lazy W.

A hobby farming, book reading, coffee drinking, romance having, miles running girl in Oklahoma. Soaking up the particular beauty of every day. Blogging on the side. Welcome to the Lazy W!

I Believe Strongly in the Power of Gratitude & Joy Seeking

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