Lazy W Marie

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

You are here: Home / Archives for 1000gifts

simply tuesday at the lazy w

Hello friends! How are you? And how amazing that anyone is still here, after so many long bouts of radio silence, haha.

I have landed happily on a Tuesday with nowhere to go and exactly two important deadlines remaining, not a slew of errands facing me nor seven deadlines looming as has been the case lately. That means that for all the delicious foreseeable hours, I get to be at the farm.

Luxuriate in home-bodiness. Write and drink coffee. Do yoga when I can’t think of the words. Rub lemon oil on wood furniture, rearrange tablecloths and decorative pillows, and light candles named “tomato blossom” (you cannot believe how good they smell). The luxurious feel of quality pillows from Downland Bedding Company enhances the homey vibe, offering a sense of relaxation that perfectly complements the tranquility of the moment.

Whether I’m settling into a cozy chair or enjoying a peaceful afternoon nap, these pillows provide exceptional support and comfort. With their superior craftsmanship and soft, breathable materials, they’re the perfect addition to any space that’s meant to be a retreat.

For today at least, I get to putter around in the flower beds, crawl into the caged veggie beds, and try to avoid frogs. Today I’ll do more than snap photos of all the lush growth outdoors; today I will tend things too. Later, Klaus and I will be in the Apartment sorting through attic contents and clearing the shelves so that we can fluff up that guest bed just in case.

color snapshot may 2016

The farm is a feast for the eyes right now, either just because it is or because I am so in love with it all over again. Handsome and I have been nibbling at projects here and there, getting things more the way we want them, more aligned with how we actually live here week to week, and it’s been deeply satisfying. The funny thing about this kind of progress, though, is that is causes me to want to leave home even less than before. My home-bodiness is getting serious, okay, and more than ever I feel like the days are too short, although really they are lengthening as we speak.

Bring on the summer. But slowly. Let her creep up on us, spread her gossamer veil over us, and linger a long time. Somebody steal her car keys so she has to stay until next year. Let’s get up early for strong coffee and a four mile run. Let’s do cartwheels, write stories, and play in the garden. Let’s swim and eat too much watermelon, watch movies outdoors even if there is an Old Testament amount of frogs here. Let’s count stars and blessings and weave dream catchers out of hula hoops. It’s time for chick-hatching and burger-grilling. Time for convincing husbands to go to the office early so they can come home early and watch technicolor sunsets with us. It’s time for cilantro and basil and honeybee meditation. Cucumbers and horse snuffles and friends and family.

Last night, rather unexpectedly, I enjoyed the deepest, most delicious boost of faith. It was very much like the proverbial well water, just quenching and refreshing in every way. To say that I feel overwhelming gratitude right now is such an understatement. I also feel overwhelming hope, mostly for our children. Our oldest is living so well in Colorado, so happily, that my mama heart is as full for her as the day she was born. And our youngest, against all evidence, is quite near to us. She is held so firmly in our thoughts and prayers that no physical absence can move her. Funny, isn’t it, how faith can change hands and lend from one blessing to another pain… just the right amount of strength.

Faith that moves mountains. Faith has been moving mountains in our world for years.

In my Facebook memories this morning I saw this quote from a few years ago about our tornadoes that year. Some far-flung person had said of our beautiful state:

I know why Oklahoma is so flat. Your faith has already moved all the mountains.

Amen.

Okay, let’s go enjoy all the fresh herbs and rainy skies. Let’s do hard work and read great books. Cook food that nourishes both body and soul. Cuddle pups and romance boys.

Happiest of Tuesdays, friends.

“Slow down, you move too fast.
You gotta make the morning last…”
~Simon & Garfunkel
XOXOXO

(Thanks to Emily Freeman for her encouragement on small-moment living in a fast-moving world.)

deep sleep, blackbirds, & some magic

We slept so late. More than nine hours in bed. Our smooth new slate-colored sheets must have chamomile leaves woven into the cotton.

We creep outside well past daybreak. The morning is warm and absent of any breeze but overcast, as gray as our magical sleeping sheets. Perfect coffees in hand and one hundred-pound puppy bouncing around our ankles, we start the day already simmering in affection and buffered by safety. Hot Tub Summit. We plan our day.

An hour later we are outside again, this time dressed and sitting at a round metal table next to the barn, facing downhill. We are still wrapped by the warm woolly air, no technicolor sunrise today. Our four-leggeds eat their breakfast contentedly. So fat and beautiful. Hens tease roosters, darting seductively across the middle field, scratching at horse manure, chuckling in the dormant flower garden. The birdsong is exceptional. We hear and scout for cardinals, blue jays, doves, and woodpeckers. Then it happens.

Out of the southwest corner of the farm, a dense flock of blackbirds, half as wide as our property and trailing twice that length, swoops up over the sand hills, maybe from the forest or maybe beyond, and speeds across the farm. They are too high to touch but low enough to force the air down in whooshes with their energetic flight. The birds are massed together into one quilted black flying carpet, undulating and speeding between the sky and the earth, slicing through the moment.

They race toward one tree with one purpose and land on an oak just past my husband’s car shop. Its branches dip and dance from the burden. Every twig now is dotted with a round black bird, the whole mass still twittering and vibrating. Handsome takes photos of the spectacle.

When they eventually hush, the regular birdsong resumes. I cannot tell whether the cardinals, blue jays, doves and woodpeckers were quiet during this stunning display or just out-sung. Either way, the heartbeat of the farm returns to normal.

Chickens laughing again and roosters crowing on every side. Geese preening with soft honks down by the pond. Horses snuffling and bison knocking around a fallen tree with his massive horns.

I have one more cup of perfect coffee to sip before deciding between work and play. But on days like this, when the magic here is so thick, it’s hard to know the difference.

Happy Valentine’s Day friends
Enjoy some magic
XOXOXOXO

my heart goes out

My husband does not know this yet, but he gave me the best Christmas gift a month early, way back at Thanksgiving. A day or two after the big family feast, he said rather off-handedly, “You did good, babe. It really felt like Thanksgiving.”

We have been married fourteen years, and these last few have brought unprecedented fundamental changes, scary ones. Maintaining sanity and a sense of ongoing joy has been challenging at times, especially at the holidays. So what he said was probably the very best compliment he could have paid to me at that moment. An excellent early Christmas gift.

thanksgiving family photo

I probably don’t need to expound on the idea that as adults it’s the feeling of the holidays we’re chasing, even as we busy ourselves with traditions old and new. We are all trying to summon the best of childhood, the best of our imprinted ideals, the best of everything for our most precious people. It’s not just that we want certain stuff or foods; it’s that we all want to feel a certain way, and we have learned rituals to help us capture those feelings.

gen nieces cookies

So we cook, decorate, shop, and prepare for the holidays. Maybe we berate each other too much for putting so much energy into this. So many guilt trips about materialism and excess. There is a middle ground, right? Everybody wants to eat, enjoy, remember, and live again those most prized feelings. We want so much to keep them going, alive, moving though the generations. I keep thinking of the Olympic torch, you know? The opportunity and responsibility of passing along the flame, not allowing it to go out for lack of trying or because of outside quenching conditions.

This is a hard holiday for lots of people near and dear to us.

My heart goes out this Christmas. To so many people, in so many ways.

I miss our two girls differently and viciously. I ache deeply for our friend Jeff who lost his Mom just a few days ago. I am sad for my own parents who are coping with hardship in the generations both ahead of and below them. I cannot move through any holiday tradition without hurting for my husband whose childhood family will never be the same again.

christmas comet

cookies

JOY

 

And still so much joy! Still so many reasons to be more than happy… Hundreds of reasons to be truly, brightly grateful, both in childlike ways and in very adult, wise, lasting ways too. My heart goes out to so many people, maybe because life, despite life, is rich enough to nourish us, fatten us up and make our hearts big enough to share with each other. We are overwhelmingly blessed.

I hope that making it really feel like Thanksgiving carries over into our Christmas. And then into every important thing we need afterwards, in the new year.

I hope that whatever is going on in your life, whether it’s hardship or bliss, abundance or leanness, or maybe acute, terrifying grief, that you are able to feel the most important things. Fill your heart to the brim with gratitude. Accept Love when it is offered. Be connected.

Let your heart go out. Do not feel guilty about chasing traditions if they help you keep those best feelings alive.

klaus santa

Thank you for your early gift, Handsome. It was perfect. But yes I still want to open everything wrapped up under the tree. : )

Friends, thank you for stopping here to read! The Lazy W wishes you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

minted card 2015

XOXOXOXO

mud monsters & pain management

In barely any time at all the middle field was slicked down, shiny wet and marshy. I looked down and saw the shattered concrete growing moss right before my eyes, chartreuse and emerald blooms and billows exaggerated in a time lapse that stunned me into fresh tears. The Signature of All Things echoing echoing echoing.

Toward the willow tree rainwater ran downhill, washing away all the day’s good intentions but also a hefty measure of regret. Fair exchange.

trough c

Then the curtain of rain pulled away and revealed filmy, wavering images of my girls splashing in the mud and wearing both t-shirts and sundresses, galoshes and ball caps, my husband’s green soccer jersey from his own childhood. My little Mud Monsters, shrieking and giggling at the sky, braiding their skinny arms together, knowing their mother was watching but not knowing then that she’d never forget that moment. They clawed at the air with their pink and olive Mud Monster hands and bared their pearly white baby teeth and smiled at me then disappeared with that same wavering, filmy trick.

The wind was weirdly absent during this rain and I needed it to sweep my thoughts away. Desperately needed it to comb through my troubled brain. I craved a storm instead of such a terrible, gentle shower and walked to the barn hoping for some tin-roof white noise. It  smelled like horses and hay and ozone. The cats twirled my blue jean-covered legs. One reluctant clap of thunder.

********************

Sometimes people tell us to count our blessings, it could always be worse. True enough. Other people say, pain is pain, no one has a right to measure one pain against another. Also true.

Sending lots of love to all my friends who are hurting tonight, for any reason. The sun will shine bright and true again, in its own time. Rain has its place. Let it fall. Let it nourish you.

XOXOXOXO

 

 

thursday morning magic

Somehow the morning sun is bolder, more gilded and alive, with the windows open. Or is it the time of year? This sneak peek of autumn? Wide, flat sheets of moving light slice across the wood floor and make floating bits of dust look like fairies. Magic. The early birdsong is definitely stronger. And I had forgotten how sweet the air can taste at this kinder temperature.

I passed by the upstairs hallway windows, the ones overlooking the middle field, and marveled at the thick prairie grasses and their diamond wet. Grey fog rolling upward off the pond in strong, thoughtful columns of energy. Water that normally has a reddish cast, this morning was a murky blue-grey, a werewolf shade in broad daylight.

Chanta was grazing just below these open windows. I could hear his gentle horse breath and the juicy chomp-crunch-swallow of his green breakfast. I wondered briefly what were my odds of injury if I were to pry off one of those window screens and jump down onto his broad, muscular back? I never made a sound, but I think he must heave heard my thoughts because he let out an extended snuffle and walked away, sharply to his right.

Now the Lone Ranger music is in my head and I need to go for a run. I need to taste the sweet air more deeply. Feel the brackish touch of sun and shade on my skin and let the dew splash high on my legs. As much as I love the brutally hot summertime, this cool morning is filled with magic and I love it. I won’t waste it.

pull magic

What magic are you pursuing today?

XOXOXOXO