Lazy W Marie

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

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a solid week of giving thanks

Hello, friends, happy last week of November to you. We are here at the farm taking deep breaths and settling into our coziest, happiest early winter vibes, having properly celebrated a full week of Thanksgiving. We feel deeply grateful. And full. Our hearts and our bellies are so very full. It hurts a little, but it’s ok.

Last week our gatherings were a delicious mix of romance and solitude, friends and family, and a dash of community outreach. We spent our days and evenings mostly together, and I loved it. Klaus’ brother Lincoln was also with us until Saturday, which greatly added to the holiday cheer.

We exercised gently when it felt good and we had the time. We ate endless feasts of our favorite traditional foods. We watched movies at home and napped shamelessly. We completed fun projects around the farm, had a couple of prayer meetings with precious friends, and started making big, happy plans for Christmas. 

Flower bed clean up!

My parents hosted the local family on Friday evening. This year, none of our coastal siblings came to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving, and neither of my girls were with us (Jess was with her Dad’s family on Thursday, excited that her brother is in town from college, wahoo! Then she came down with strep throat, poor girl). We also are missing Grandpa Rex an awful lot. We could have focused on the people not with us, and in fact missing Jocelyn so acutely right now, I cried a lot on our drive to the City.

But somehow, the collective joy and laughter were powerful enough to drive out any sadness. I so appreciate this about my family. Everyone is so fun loving and light hearted, no matter what difficulty we are facing. Sometimes, I think, we are silly to spite what we are facing. And we have faced plenty over the years.

There’s a whole funny story about this moment that will probably lose all its humor in translation so just trust me here.

Mom, Angela, and I divided the menu, and I dare say conquered it. Three generations ate like kings and queens. Afterwards, everyone was able to fill their refrigerators with excellent leftovers. 

We played board games after dinner, and thanks to some magical November weather, the kids played outside.

My nephew Dante and baby brother Phil. Love them so much!!
Our Dad built this swing set for us when I was still in middle school. Now the little kids love it, and I bet they don’t even know that once I fell from it and busted my head open and got stitches and still have the scar.

On Sunday, Handsome and I welcomed several close friends at the farm for a low-key Friends-giving. Two fine humans named Kellie and Mickey arrived early, rolled up their sleeves, and helped finish all the food prep while we all chatted about deep and joyful new things. I have to say, the four of us make an outstanding team, especially in the kitchen. It was lots of fun.

Kale salad with roasted butternut squash and pom seeds, and smoked deviled eggs form Dennis. Amazing flavor!!

About nine adults total gathered and ate buffet style, snuggled up in our living room, where Handsome had built us a gorgeous, crackling fire. Everyone who joined us is in a very different life chapter, a mix of hard and beautiful, but we all have been friends for several years and care so much about each other. It was good to catch up in a quiet atmosphere and count our many blessings. Lots of laughter, again. Laughter prevails. Our faces hurt.

Along the way, truly every day this past week, we have felt that glowy warmth of genuine thankfulness. Gratitude for so many huge and tiny blessings. We feel God up close to us and surrounding us, too. He is pressing in, and we press back. Or maybe it’s the other way around?

Guess who can flat foot jump onto a round bale of hay now?

What I know is that it is working, this ongoing effort to improve our perspective a little more each day. Widen our view. Count the blessings that are coming at us like a tidal wave. Love immeasurable and full of hope. 

Thousands of prayers for these kids who are growing so fast…xoxo

Plus, it’s finally Christmas lights season!!

Thanks for reading, friends. I hope your Thanksgiving Week was also filled with love and pleasures. I hope you feel miracles brewing again. I would love to hear all about it.

Check back in soon for slightly more analytical thoughts on gratitude, whether it actually has power to change things.

Over and out!

XOXOXOXO

 

friday 5 at the farm: surprises this week

Whew, happy Friday!! What a great week this has been!

Since last I wrote, between and among all of our beautiful daily routines, several delicious little things have happened. Taking note of some of them feels really good. (When the exact opposite things might happen, the negative versions, we would complain, right? So let’s celebrate the small victories and pleasures.)

001 My first November fartlek run felt easy: 8 miles total at 9:31 average (1 up/1 down, 6 in the middle just casual intervals) Ahhhh you guys it felt really easy and I had so much fun. Had that day been less hectic I would gladly have started earlier and tried several more intervals. Anyway, it was kinda messy but overall a decent pace, and it didn’t tax me at all. The day before I had run 10 easy, so I was happy to be zero tired. Progress. Another type of progress, also kind of a surprise: I had to skip running two days in a row this week (Wednesday and Thursday) just due to life obligations, not a lack of motivation, and I was conspicuously un-bothered by it. At least, less bothered than I would have been not long ago, ha. Learning to keep the long view and keep running in balance with life is a sign of emotional progress. (And you can bet that getting out the door this morning to grab ten solitary miles was like pay-day, ha! Super refreshing.)

On Sunday we were surprised by a cluster of hot air balloons above OKC, so beautiful!

002 An unplanned visit from Jess! On Tuesday afternoon our youngest texted asking if she and her (very sweet) friend Mercedes could come to the farm for a visit. They arrived just as Handsome had pulled the truck and trailer in with a load of winter hay, and both young women jumped right up to help. They kicked and shoved with their strong legs four mammoth round bales onto the ground, all the while keeping Meh and the horses held off. Then we played with Klaus (of course) and caught up with each other. These girls are so smart and such fun conversationalists. We all four ate a dinner of baked chicken, roasted butternut squash soup (yes please let’s add a drizzle of coconut milk!), simple green salad, and buttery French bread, toasted. Jess and Mercedes stayed after dinner to play a board game, and we all had a blast. Such a happy surprise for us.

003 Lunch with Handsome at Lido in the Asian District, OKC. We used to eat here pretty frequently years ago but hadn’t been in so long. On Wednesday we found ourselves in town at the same time and he had just enough of a window to eat, so we ducked in and it was great. I had a bowl of vermicelli rice noodles with chicken. It was on top of a big pile of shredded lettuce and had carrots, mint, and crushed peanuts. Delicious. I love when unfamiliar restaurant food is flavorful and filling without a ton of syrupy sauce. And I love surprise lunch dates with my guy.

Also, three cheers for piping hot jasmine tea! So good.

004 Water tank repaired two whole days early!! That is a very happy surprise when you are excited to get caught up on laundry, ha! The repairman was scheduled for tomorrow (Saturday), but earlier this week he advanced our appointment to get ahead of a possible snow this weekend. He spent most of Thursday replacing our ancient well pump and the house water tank, and throughout the day he taught me a lot about how our rural water system works. It was pretty interesting. Klaus assessed the situation as training for when he finally gets to attack an intruder. He used his big boy voice. A lot.

005 Our first true cold snap surprised me. We have already had some cool nights and chilly, breezy afternoons the past month or so, but yesterday and overnight into Friday morning we felt the first blast of truly cold air. That autumn air that is so cold is tastes sweet and almost smells like something else, and certainly, when you catch a whiff of wood smoke from someone’s chimney, that perfume is stronger in the cold. Our kaleidoscope-colored oak, pecan, and maple leaves are abandoning their branches and drying to a crisp on their way to the ground. Already I am raking or sweeping up great oceans of them twice a day. But there is beauty even in the trees’ increasing bareness, and the cold means more soups and thicker socks and that deep sense of rhythm that the winter holidays provide. I’m ready. Tonight our heaters are on and my flower pots are indoors. 

Related: I saw the above tee shirt at Old Navy and it is my motto for a few days. Starting next weekend, our calendar is packed all the way through to the New Year, so this weekend I intend to crate and hold some space for breathing and stretching and being cozy. I want (NEED) to gear up for the season in some quiet ways. Soak up some details. There is some winter nesting to enjoy.

After I run. : )

Any surprises in your world this week? Are you fully invested in the season change now?

Thanks for checking in!! 

“The moments of happiness we enjoy
take us by surprise.
It is not that we seize them
but that they seize us.”
~Ashley Montagu
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

 

daybreak today and the happy residue of our friday night gathering

Around 7:15 this morning Klaus and I went outside to feed everyone breakfast and to bear witness to daybreak. The inky black sky and diamond moon an hour earlier had whispered promises of an exceptional display, and we were not disappointed.

The eastern sky cracked open and gushed Technicolor all over the farm. All over the prairie grasses and wildflowers, the pine trees and blackjacks and zinnias and eerily decaying summer vines. Something I’ll never capture in a snapshot. That molten energy rushed through the treetops, scattered leaves both downhill and up, and transformed the pond into a pink and orange looking glass. The already dazzling crazy quilt of autumn leaves was for several moments downright metallic. Glittered. And still, the sun was just rising, barely.

 

Almost forty five minutes later, as I sat outside scribbling this in my notebook, broad gashes of light were streaming across the treetops and aiming west, downhill, and straight through me. It was all bold and direct, no longer diffused.  

Everyone around here seems to agree that this year’s autumn transformation has been a special one. We should probably thank the lush, mild summer and gentle cool down for that. The forests and gardens have been changing daily, hourly sometimes, like a twisting handheld kaleidoscope where each leaf is a chunk of tinted glass reflecting against so many connecting mirrors.

I want my eyes and my heart to be mirrors for all of it. I want to always remember how beautiful Oklahoma was in October of 2018.

One day soon we will wake up for our usual routines and see that the trees are bare and the ground is frozen. On that day we’ll find the beauty of course, but it will be different. For now, for today, we will soak up the color and thrumming life and all of this glorious transformation energy. And we’ll count it all joy because it’s so easy. It’s so available to us.

Last night four friends joined us at the farm for a cozy dinner and to finally discuss The Book of Joy. It was a small, organic mix of deeply thinking, tender, feeling people who had either already enjoyed the book or who were interested in it based on piecemeal reviews I had been posting on Facebook for months.

The Book of Joy is just so nourishing, you guys. I highly recommend this slim, straightforward work to people of every religion, every background, every station in life. And I strongly suggest you buy a copy to keep forever; because it seems to be the kind of book that you might read (or at least skim and review) at different times in life and each time glean new wisdom.

Our intimate discussion last night was everything my soul needed. I felt absolute Love in the midst of us all, and my brain kept sparking and coming to life every time someone shared their insights. The fact that my husband was there for it all and a strong part of the dialogue is a brand new joy for me. 

I have tried to make people aware that the ultimate source of happiness is simply a healthy body and a warm heart. ~Dalai Lama

Soon, in addition to so much great material from the book, I want us to explore Ubuntu, the African expression for humanity. “We become persons through other people.” It’s the notion that connectedness is part of our human design, our nature. The idea that we function best when we find other people and live in actual community. Especially as the holiday season opens wide, I would love to really internalize this concept.

Togetherness, intimacy, connection, community.

Daybreak for our hearts and minds and bodies and spirits. Eye candy and nourishment, both. Improving our perspectives and staying aware and very very present. Yes to all of it.

I am beyond excited to continue this dialogue with my husband and our friends and their loved ones, and also with my sister Angela and maybe our adult children, as well as with our friend Kiran, who is Hindu. The diversity of our favorite humans is as mesmerizing as Oklahoma’s autumn display right now.

“The way you see the world,
the meaning you give to what you witness,
changes the way you feel.”
~Jinpa
XOXOXOXO

“be gentle”

This reminder came to me in earnest on Saturday, but it has been circling for weeks: “Be gentle.” 

I saw it at a nearby thrift store while we shopped for a table lamp. The message stopped me in my tracks, the words scrawled in loopy handwriting with a blue grease pencil on this beautiful little dressing mirror, a pink vintage treasure, chalky to the touch and no doubt filled with memories. 

“Be Gentle,” the message pleads with passersby to not crash past and damage this.

I had been hearing and feeling this all month in lots of different ways, but I just kept crashing through every day.

Do you remember in that Jim Carrey movie Bruce Almighty when the silent homeless man holds so many cardboard signs, yet he goes largely unnoticed until finally the messages are unmistakably aimed at the main character? Ok. You’re with me now for sure.

Be Gentle, lady. Ease up.

It’s all okay.

Soften a little, breathe more deeply.

Touch everything more lightly.

Speak and think more slowly.

Gentle yourself,

like it’s a verb as much as an adjective.

Move into more delicacy.

I have a tendency to crash through my days with a weird sort of desperation, trying not to miss a thing, trying not to waste a drop of time or energy. Everything is so beautiful and I really do love my life so much, even the difficult parts. I’m learning to appreciate that particular sort of growth.

It’s all a positive panic, but still a panic. And too often that results in spreading my attention (my awareness) so thinly that I only manage to glance at my surroundings and opportunities. I miss out on the deep, nourishing soak that I crave. And that means that my people and animals and home and community miss out on my undivided attention. 

I move (and speak and think) so quickly that I become rough and handle breakable things carelessly. Things like dishes and garden tools and books and even relationships. 

When my grandpa was alive he would have said, “Settle, settle.” He would have hushed me lovingly, his tan and wrinkled hand parallel to the ground, pulsing steadily. He would have done so with a smile and maybe some soft laughter. 

Some gentleness is in order. Some stillness and attention. 

I definitely trust God enough to pause and take a deep breath. Choose to see and affirm that He is in control and that I can afford to slow down.

My zinnias and other summer flowers are fading slowly, very slowly, so I watch them obsessively. Every tiny change is fascinating. Beautiful.

 

Okay, this is precisely the motivation I needed today, friends. Kind of the opposite of how I usually revv my engines on Monday morning, ha! I hope it finds you in a state of bliss or inspiration or at least poised for exactly what your soul needs most.

Just a few days left of this fine transition month. I am so excited to see what November brings. But I will reign myself a little bit, gently, so it all comes more slowly. One glittering moment at a time. 

Slow Down, You Move Too Fast.
You Got to Make the Morning Last
~Simon & Garfunkel
XOXOXOXO

the word for this week is “WHEW”

This past week flew by in a whirlwind of ordinary and extraordinary, with a couple of scary close calls and lots of deep relief mixed in. As the dust is settling before daybreak Sunday morning, I am even more filled with gratitude than usual.  

This is how my strong, sweet husband described it at bedtime Thursday night: “We have had two days that could have brought major paradigm shifts, but here we are resting in our comfortable bed and everything is okay.” I love that. And I am truly thankful for a husband who will speak words this powerful just as I am falling asleep.

Early Thursday morning Jessica had a health scare that brought all four of the parents together in the emergency room. Jess had been sick since the day before, feeling pretty worn down and in lots of pain (she had an elevated heart rate, too) from what we would eventually know was tonsillitis. But before we knew that, everyone was on high alert. 

By mid-morning, she had had tests and received lots of assurance from the doctor plus a few prescriptions and strict instructions to rest. We were all wildly relieved and with her blessing made plans for her to come back to the farm to recoup for a few days.

Klaus is very good at cuddling and watching people be sick. He loves us back to wellness.

It had been many years since we all convened in a hospital room like that, and it echoed both terror and comfort. Because we know God so much better by now. Trust in all circumstances has become such a natural way of life. We sense and believe so deeply how much He wants to help all of us, both with health and medicine and work and finances, the physical realities of living on earth, as well as with human relationships and all things spiritual. It’s amazing.

The peace in that hospital room was as much a relief as her good health report. 

The day before, we had a near miss with a house fire. I had spent the afternoon working between the gardens and the Apartment, where I had turned on a wall unit air conditioner, to cut the humidity. I went outside for a few minutes and returned to the sharp metallic smell of electrical fire. Long story short, the wall unit had a short in it. Thankfully, the sparks and tiny flames in the machine, though they did produce a lot of smoke, did not turn into a true fire, and the house is fine. But it was tense. My husband arrived home within minutes of me turning off all our power. He checked the wall and wires thoroughly. We turned the power back on and went back to life as usual, slightly stunned by everything that almost happened.

More echoes from past trauma, and another example of something which we have experienced before: Our house fire a decade ago was scary and stressful and expensive. But also loaded with blessings. God walked us through that ordeal then, every step of the way. This time, we were glad to avoid it completely.

So much assurance and peace, just to be restored to real life routines, two days in a row.

Before and in between those stories, life this first week of October was as full and normal as ever. My husband continues to work at the Commish under extreme stress but handles it beautifully, if you ask me. We continue to strive for health and peace and beautification around the farm. And gosh we really want to embrace the changing season.

Speaking of seasonal pleasures…

Saturday morning, Jess was feeling like herself again. The three of us took a very late breakfast outside to eat on the deck next to the first bonfire we have had in many weeks. It all happened just as a cold front swept uphill from the pond and a gentle rain tapped on the oak canopy above us. We played outside and luxuriated and talked about everything. 

What a way to start October, what a way to usher in autumn. And maybe this is helping us prepare for so many life transitions already headed our way. The house fire a decade ago signaled an awful life chapter. But I know this one brewing now will be different. I know that in my bones. Tomorrow is a new moon, too, I think. Definitely a time to notice growth.

Later that afternoon, when she was feeling really great and ready to resume her life and gentle routine, I drove Jess back to the City. (She had come to the farm with me on Thursday, without her car since she was too sick to drive.) That drive back was especially nourishing for the two of us. Long car rides have often, over the years, meant deep talking.

I soaked it up gratefully. And this time I was offered two additional gifts.

First, we saw Jocelyn. She was driving toward us on Penn, and it was actually her vehicle I recognized first, “Becky.” I am well acquainted with Becky since she started driving it in Colorado. Then I saw Jocelyn’s beautiful, pale round face and enormous brown eyes, that fringe of bangs beneath her ballcap. My heart leaped. I miss her so much, even with all the good news and encouragement we keep hearing. For a moment it occurred to me to suppress tears in front of Jessica. Then I realized that my body’s initial response to cry and ache was brief. No need to suppress.

Something warm and pleasant washed over me instead, like a touchable veil of comfort. 

Then, after dropping Jess (and cuddling her dog Pippa), as I was leaving Oklahoma City, I noticed the digital marquee on Penn, not far from where Joc would have been driving. It was at KP Supply, a business that for many years has been sharing inspirational or motivational quotes on their sign. Once, they agreed to scroll a Happy Birthday message to Joc, so she would see it as we drove to school that day. They are the nicest people, and their sign always touches my heart. Yesterday this was their message:

You cannot trust your judgment when your imagination is out of focus.

Okay, wow, yes. This speaks straight to my heart for so many reasons. How does it strike you?

I am finishing this post around lunchtime on Sunday. It’s once again raining gently outside, our windows are open, and I am happy to be immersed in all sorts of cuddly activities with my husband and our Shepp. My heart is calm. 

This week’s near misses and moments of rescue, these golden reassurances for yet unanswered prayers, they are altogether a thrilling gift. Life is beautiful and good beyond description. Trusting God with every detail is the most radical, most effective, most deeply satisfying life strategy we have ever tried. He loves us so much, it’s crazy.

Ok. Happy Sunday. I need to go check on my friends who are running the Chicago marathon today!!!

“It’s Not Time to Worry Yet.”
~Atticus Finch
XOXOXOXO