Lazy W Marie

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

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early spring stream of consciousness

Welcome to springtime in my brain! This post will be some kind of hybrid between a concise and unlyrical “Farm Journal Entry” and a long form, better orchestrated blog post.

Spring has sprung. The weather has shifted, the landscape has well and truly emerged from her winter slumber, and the animals are in agreement, as evidenced by shedding horses, hens laying eggs consistently, and cows giving and receiving piggy back rides. Ahem. Even the pollinators are out of hibernation and doing their buzzy, fluttery rounds. I see snakes and lizards almost daily, despite the cool nights.

((peach blossoms))

((rhett and scarletta))

Did you know we have been building a greenhouse? It’s been on our wishlist for many years, but since refitting the little brick cottage for seed starting a few years ago, I had all but forgotten about the idea. One day about a month ago Handsome announced that he had found a guy (there’s always a guy and my guy’s always finding him) with cheap greenhouse panels. So cheap we would be crazy not to scoop ’em up. So scoop we did, and the rest is history. Chalk this up to another project we have had tons of fun doing together, not to mention one of the grandest gestures of love and romance from him to me. The spot we chose for the new little Taj Majal includes a brand new full sun garden space, my first ever believe it or not! All of this deserves a detailed post, which I will write soon. Just know that it is very exciting, and it has occupied a lot of mental and energetic real estate around here all month.

((I call it my little garden chapel))

((year one for the summer garden))

The photo above is the new “Summer Garden” adjacent to the new greenhouse. This is the view from upstairs. Can you see the color difference in a few spots? I have been adding rich, black compost and shredded oak leaves anytime I can scrape out half an hour. In fact, this job might be finished by the time I post this. The space overall has been tilled, because it has never been used for growing before, and we did add topsoil. But that topsoil turned out to be mostly sand and clay, so the amendments are both necessary and fun. I love using what we have, right here at the farm, whenever possible. The pine trees are north, the greenhouse is east, and the food rows will run parallel to those fence lines you see on the left. If you look closely, you can see my favorite vintage glider couch, a gift from my Dad, fortified by Handsome, facing the west. We see the most glorious sunsets here, and I can’t wait to invite frinends to watch them, surrounded by corn and okra and wildflowers. We’ll pick a watermelon and eat it together, right there.

((starberries waking up))

One of our friends recommended the Apple TV series SIlo, but I can’t remember who. We devoured season one, and now I am recommending it to you. Normally to this type of show I say enough already with the apocalyptic stuff. We have all saturated our brains with it, you know? But this is different. There’s a fascinating element of truth supression that to me is worth the insufferable grime and short food supply, etc. Have you watched it? Thank you to whoever suggested we give it a try!

In very different emntertainment news, the current season of Shrinking is chef’s kiss, as the kids say. It has a Ted Lasso quality that makes me feel so good and strong.

On a blustery weather day recently I dove deeply into spring cleaning. Between dusting and scrubbing various negelcted spaces, I took down some heavy drapes in the living room then removed a complicated window treatment in the kitchen (imagine a pleated sheer with six wicker baskets hanging from the curtain rod, all filled with about twenty dry hydrangeas, plus disco balls hanging among them. It was an autumn choice which I do not regret but of which I had grown quite weary). The gluttonous flood of sunlight in both rooms stunned me. I had forgotten how bright the downstairs of our house could be! Now I want to paint some portion of the kitchen yellow and hang crisp white cafe curtains everywhere. Until that decision is made, I am enjoying the light, and Johnny RIngo is enjoying the cooking shows.

((I have since added very different curtains))

Speaking of Johnny Ringo, he remains Klaus’ best friend. They spend the majority of every day together, and it’s the sweetest thing ever. Twice in a week we went outside before daybreak and didn’t find him. Klaus was worried. But when we did our breakfast chores and made it around to the chicken coop, both times we found him there. Somehow Johnny had got shut in with the flock and slept there all night, ha! Also both times, the entire flock was huddled around him in the adjacent duck room, looking like a very creepy seance.

((best buddies))

I had a refreshing thought recently about springtime gardening, and I’ll share it with you in case you also berate yourself for having not yet orchestrated a lush, complex, multi-week spring display of color and texture. You know the kinds of gardens we see, right. and crave? But for the most part those gardens are installed the previous autumn, which is a busy time in a thousand other ways. I have talked to lots of gardening friends who also bemoan the lack of wherewithall in October to plant a garden we won’t see until March or April. Anyway, here is my refreshing thought: Our eyes and our spirits needs far less than we think they do. Nature herself provides so much, without our help. Just sprinkle in a few things here and there, add a little more each year, and call it mission accomplished.

Elsewhere on the farm I do have tulips splashing jellybean color on the sepia landscape and a few fruit trees and hellebores, budding hydrangeas, lilacs, and the first bright green on boxwoods and other shrubs. But this plain little scene, oak leaves and all, gets the point across, to me at least: You need less than you think you do to feel the relief of springtime. A bit of redbud, a forsythia, some daffodils here and there. Not a thousand. Not a perfect grid, either, unless that’s your thing, But for me, in Oklahoma, springtime is all about the vegetable garden. So I am very content feasting my eyes on the easy beauty of everything just waking up. At least for now. : )

((year two for these exciting grapevines))

((the pond is still low and still beautiful))

I trust nature to wake up, but every time she does I am just floored. Every perennial that appears where I had become accustomed to brown, dry earth, amazes me. When the grapevines pushed fresh buds, which then unfurled into fancy green leaves, I just about wept. The blackberries are a miracle, And I have no business collecting such well aged compost after so many months of neglect. I guess I always thought the compost heap needed a lot more complicated attention than it does. But man. We have six out of nine enormous boxes overflowing with the good stuff right now! The pines are candling, the oak trees are dressed in thousands of those chartreuse tassels, and I have a feeling my rose garden will be in bloom for Easter Sunday.

Every day I wake up with so many ideas I have to spend a few minutes consciously focusing my energy. Too much available time can be a problem, but it’s a gift once my energy is focused. I am trying to really cement a few new habits:

  • Be very choosy about what deserves my attention. This means saying no to lots of options.
  • Do something every day that cannot be easily undone, so that I am not living perpetually in maintenance mode.
  • Allow myself to be led by Joy, not fear or stress or guilt or anything else. It matters.

There’s more, friends much more. In the time it took me to upload these photos and write these haphazrd sentences, thirty other beautiful things have happened. And I haven’t even told you what’s going on at the Commish or in our family. Just like in the springtime landscape, energy is building and changes are everywhere. I can’t keep up. And I have no desire to. I am just so happy to be along for the ride.

“The war had invested me with an understanding that life is both
dangerous and fleeting and thus there is no point in denying yourself
adventure while you are still here.”
~Elizabeth Gilbert in Magic City
XOXOXO

early march touchstones

Hello friends! Long time no blog. In the weeks since we said goodbye to Meh and you all poured out your love so generously, life on the farm has been a classic mix of funny and serious, hard working and deeply restful, celebatory and mundane. Basically, all the ingredients that make life worth living. We have been soaking it up and trying our best to make the days count, you know? I hope you have, too, and I hope you are well.

((turns out, forcing tulips indoors makes a great Easter display…xoxo))

In Oklahoma we seem to be waltzing toward a pretty reliable springtime, and our calendar is filling up with all the attendant festivals and family parties for which I try hard to be ready, after long, sweaty days and weekends outdoors. Who am I kidding? My husband would love for me to be showered and presentable just for a weeknight dinner, ha! But that is a big ask this time of year.

I do love this time of year. I love the mild chaos of a garden cottage filled wtih seed trays, hand tools, and plant labels. I love that the oak trees are finally dropping the last of their crunchy leaves, just as the maples and redbuds are dotting themselves with barely visible leaf buds. I love how Solomon’s Seal is closely following the daffodil parade and that we are watching for signs of tulips who have defied the odds. I love that the horses are shedding and the hens are laying again, just like clockwork. I love the days when my hardest decision is how much regular work I should do before diving into garden work, which actually feels like play. I love that we are collectively trading out winter clothes for bright colors and sundresses. I love that daylight is expanding, birdsong is growing louder, pollinators are exploring, and ideas are multiplying faster than I can even write them down.

((Chanta & Dusty feasting on alfalfa and shedding their winter coats…xoxo))
((Miss Scarlett Rose, getting acquainted with her new pasture…xoxo))

How can it already be March?

So much to do and say.

We owe you all a heartfelt thank you for sharing in our grief over Meh. I have a post coming out soon that will answer some questions about that, and we have some reflections to share.

We have exciting family updates to share! We also have a community event in the works (locals, stay tuned). And I have a milestone birthday around the corner, which has me feeling extra philosophical, ha! So, you know, either stay tuned or stay clear, whatever suits you best.

((a photo from February, but remind me to update you on our handsome boys))

Speaking of milestone birthdays, a little red head we love recently crossed the one year mark, and our dear friend Cathy hand crocheted her this darling crown to celebrate! We’ll work on getting better photos so you can see the details. It is absolutely scrumptious her sweet, forelock topped head.

((Scarlett Rose, middle field royalty…xoxo))

Life is still good. Life is better than ever not despite the shadows and hardships but because the shadows and the hardships are part of the recipe. They always will be, but we grow stronger and more elegant in how we navigate them. This injects such depth and sweetness.

((Miss Scarlett Rose is finding her place in the Farmily.
She is officially one year old now and pure joy!))

Life is still full of beauty and work worth doing. Still thrumming with new energy and mercy and Love. Life is still all about awareness and connection, about what we choose to focus on and magnify.

((oh HI-drangea! xoxo))

Thanks very much for checking in. I hope you are welcoming every life ingredient with open arms and that, if you are gardening this spring, your soil is intoxicating and your growing dreams and wild and colorful.

((dreaming of roses and tomatoes and green bean collecting afternoons))

“Do you know why birds sing just before dawn?
Scientists believe it’s to tell their mates
that they made it through the night.
As a way of saying, I’m still here.
Maybe that’s why we sing, too, why we create art.
As a way of saying, I made it. I’m still here.”
~Jeff Goins
XOXO

friday 5 at the farm, mid september

Another week of September has churned through us, and we are better for it all. How about a Friday 5 at the Farm post, before moving on? 001 Third Annual Talent Show:  Last Saturday evening our friends and family descended on the farm for the Third Annual Lazy W Talent Show. This event is a favorite of ours and just keeps getting better. This year the theme was “80s.” Everyone came dressed up (my sister called it being in full regalia and she was not wrong) and most of the crowd was also prepared with skits, musical acts, poetry, and even visual artwork. Our people make everything magical. And my husband went above and beyond to surprise me with a Kraft-paper “Berlin wall” which we tore down upon hearing the famous sound byte of President Reagan demanding that Mr. Gorbachev do so. He also (my husband, not Reagan) obliged my wish for a hand-holding group sing-along of We Are the World. Those details, plus Beastie Boys and Cyndi Lauper, paintings galore, and lots of 80s trivia, helped us make a thousand happy memories. 002 Eggs & Honey Galore: Hens in both coops are now laying eggs consistently. They are gifting us upwards of fourteen eggs per day! The smaller coop in the south yard boasts one large green egg plus one other deep brown egg and two miniature white eggs per day. The minis come from one extra diminutive Bantam hen and our very fancy white Polish hen named Zsa-Zsa. You may be interested to know that when you crack these tiny eggs alongside a standard egg, more often than not the yolks are similarly sized; it’s just that the smaller eggs have less of the liquid white. A quick and gentle beehive check on Thursday yielded a few cups of gorgeous honeycomb and some dark, rich honey, just a spontaneous theft. After completing my tasks, I stood there staring at the bees, mesmerized again. Thrilled that they are healthy and that both hives are literally flowing with more honey. I have a long list of repairs to do for Princess Grace before cold weather arrives, but it will be fun. Overflowing joy. What a gift and a miracle. 003 Surprises Daily & Learning to Anticipate the Best Ones: I had to start keeping a list of all the surprising joys popping up lately. It was uncanny at first; then I realized that much of it had been prayer requests. So are they surprises? Or really, should I have actually planned on these pleasures and reliefs? Big picture, God is telling me to trust Him even more deeply and to anticipate the best of everything. My requests are big, you guys, and I am excited. 004 Gardens & Animals Feeling the Gentlest Shift: With summer temperatures just beginning to relent, but with humidity hanging on for dear life, the gardens are voluptuous and overwhelming. Tomato vines are still producing. Basil and marigold plants are fluffy and demanding again. Zinnias and watermelons seem determined to pretend that summer is forever. The bachelors are so content in the mildness, they amble up for cuddles all day and never seem bothered by anything. Somehow the horseflies are easily controlled this year. I am okay with all of this. By next week, I will be filling bare spots here and there with pansies and seeds for leafy greens. Jessica has asked for help starting her fall garden, too, so that is its own particular joy. 005 Moon Cycles in Sync: Did you soak up the Full Harvest Moon? Do you have any little rituals or journaling activities that help you capitalize on the energy shift? If you care to chat about how female moon cycles intersect with actual (astrological) moon cycles, send me a message! I am learning a lot and feel like certain small practices would help most women. Okay, happy weekend!! Tomorrow we have a Batman outreach opportunity at the Boys and Girls Club of OKC, then a car show with friends, and on Sunday the annual pie baking contest, hosted by Savory Spice Shop in OKC. Hopefully we will also carve out some time with the Sweet Sperrys, for our own version of church. This should be a fun and restful few days for us. I wish the same and much more for you. Thank you for checking in! “Thread the Needle.” ~unknown XOXOXO

rooted & grounded

And just like that, we have leaped across the verdant threshold between seasons. My heart is filled all over again with excitement for the coming gardens and with hope for so many yet-unanswered prayers. I know I say that a lot, about hope, but please know that we also celebrate the brick-and-mortar resolutions, the answers, the rewards of waiting and hoping, all the time. Our world lately has been riddled with both good news (really good news), encouragement to expect more of it, and some healthy perspective about how much worse life often is for others. Gratitude is not strong enough a word to express how I feel about it all. I am in awe of what God has been doing for us and the people near us.

Jessica planting some joyful color in her apartment courtyard garden…xoxoxo

Seeds are germinating left and right. The Peeps have officially outgrown their indoor trough home and have moved to the flight pen outside. Broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage starts are suddenly voluptuous; their neighboring snow peas are tendriling upwards on arched cattle panels; and the Mouse Garden is a thick, highly textured bed of kale. Kale!! The Yukon Gold potato box has sprouted with food, and what so far looks like just green confetti will very soon be full ruffles of spinach, kale, arugula, and fancy lettuces. Last year’s chicks, now fully mature hens, are laying eggs regularly and eating all the wild clover I can pull from our new watermelon patch. The horses are shedding as thickly as the cottonwood is about to be blooming, and speaking of blooms, all four of our fruit trees seem to have kept their precious springtime flowers and are all set up for a heavy season of apples, peaches, and plums.

The house stays warm enough most days, now, even with the heater off and the windows open, to keep a sourdough starter going, and I bake fresh bread as often as we crave it. We stay busy outdoors so much longer these days, with the gradually later sunsets and mild weather, just moving easily and with great pleasure from one task to the next. Klaus keeps us company the whole time, and it is wonderful to find him exhausted instead of restless at the end of a day well spent. (My husband says he feels the same way about being able to exhaust me, ha! Hibernation is not for everyone.)

Our middle field especially is greening up, and just a moderate effort to scoop up and relocate manure is making a big difference. The compost bins have stayed so full that I recently started a second, much larger area for experimenting with a faster decomposition method. But now I think it’s too far away from a water source. Oh well, the honeybees love it!

My little herb garden is waking up from winter, and it is so fun to try and visualize what will return, where the truly blank spots are, how to reshape and replenish the small area. It’s a luscious intimacy, to know a garden for a length of time, to become familiar with its dimensions and habits and needs and wants. To know how it behaves in each season, what is asks of the gardener, what it offers in return. In the spaces between perennials, I am scattering seeds like cinnamon basil, dill, zinnias, and more. By Easter Sunday everything should be erupting there. Already, in this garden and in the areas flanking the vegetable gate, day-lilies and vinca have returned. I am so excited about the gomphrena and Mexican petunia. For now my eyes feast on the Jane magnolia petals falling all over the front sidewalk.

We have been craving to host an outdoor yoga night and will do this soon. The weather is just so close to being reliable, and we have only a short list of deck repairs to make first. Local and interested in moonlit yoga and meditation? Stay tuned!

The first three months of this gorgeous new year have been filled with incredible Love, satisfying work, plenty of restoration and deep breathing, and just good, plain, happy daily pleasures. Life at the W is not without stress and certainly out hearts have aches like everyone’s; but we have laid hold of some powerful antidotes and some very agreeable reminders for each other about what matters most, about how to shrug off distractions and quickly refuse energy siphons, and how to really sink in and enjoy the moments. Magnify pleasures. Minimize irritations. When either of us buckles from some outside pressure, I think we are pretty good at showing each other grace and welcoming each other back to paradise. Because paradise, really, is how it so often feels. For these things and much more, I am so deeply grateful.

One last update, I just finished The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. My sister Angela had recommended it, and I found it to be not just thought provoking but deeply confirming of so much I have already been considering. Lots to discuss if you have read this!

Happy Sunday, friends, and happy springtime!

Rooted and Grounded in Love
XOXOXO

holding space, and early march update & a new spin on optimism

In like a lion, out like a lamb. That’s the adage I’m celebrating right now, doubling up on the almanac’s confident assurances about an early spring. My local friends will argue that our frigid air temps of late have already proved that prediction wrong; but it was a brief blip on an otherwise sunny outlook. This too shall pass. Let’s cling to that adage as well, which brings me to my favorite reading material this week: The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle.

Have you read this book, or are you listening to Oprah’s piecemeal interview with him, which dissects his other title, A New Earth? The material is such a luscious reinforcement to all the Buddhism we have been absorbing this winter, all the lessons on mindfulness, stillness, and impermanence.

And I may or may not have mentioned this here: For months now I have been receiving crystal clear direction from God to make space and hold it. I crave space in my body, in my schedule, in our home, even in my intimate relationships, though creating space there has been magically coupled with a new layer of more meaningful intimacy. I tried to rationalize it for a while but eventually relaxed and decided that simply doing it could become my daily practice. It has been lovely, and I am only just beginning.

One funny thing about space is that it tends to fill itself up if we aren’t watching. Physical space, especially. We recently sold one car and rearranged the others plus some gym equipment to other outbuildings and in so doing wound up with a completely blank car bay in the garage attached to our house, the one where I do laundry and have a potting/painting bench. How long did that space stay empty? Not very! We went to the feed store last weekend and brought home 21 newly hatched chicks and 2 tiny ducks. They now live in a heated metal horse trough in that “empty space,” ha! Our days since they came to the farm have been very peep-ish and our whole world is now totes adorbs. This kind of space filling is fine by us.

Let’s talk about the weather once more, and the seasons.

These recent weeks brought us freezing (truly freezing, not just hyperbole-cold-Oklahoma but actually sub-zero) temps and plenty of frost and ice. We fought off the despair of unceasingly gray, gloomy skies, wore layer upon layer of clothing but still shivered, and ate weird food that barely ever warmed us up. The tail end of February is always bizarre, right? Doesn’t it feel longer than all the rest of winter, combined?

Then, on Monday evening, the clouds parted suddenly and the sun shone on the farm just long enough to accomplish a dramatic stab of gold and bronze, fighting off the gloom, literally moments before dusk. We were sitting in the east living room when it happened, and the change in atmosphere deserved its own Vivaldi soundtrack.

Then Tuesday was ever so slightly more pleasant for being outside, and sunset on Wednesday took my breath away. This morning, before seven, I saw the eastern sky do that kaleidoscope twist where all of her pink and apricot colors churned and shone and cast a shimmering mix of lavender and yellow onto the basin of the western sky, just across our pond. It happens some days in a more kinetic way than others. It’s truly magical, and I love it.

Also, our only two adult roosters are fighting a little bit, no matter that they have a harem of seven gorgeous hens to share.

The pine forest has been weighed down with hefty flocks of visiting, screaming black birds.

The earthworms are wriggling into the warmest top layers of soil and compost.

The horses are shedding like crazy.

The bees are foraging on dried manure and dandelions.

And my heart just knows.

What I’m saying here, friends, is that springtime is happening. We knew it would!

All the seed trays, empty raised beds, and future watermelon patches will soon be ready for action.

Until then, more space making, More reading and cleaning and working and loving. More teaching ducklings to swim (like they need lessons) and more encouraging German Shepherds to appreciate every single romp outdoors, because the freeze is over, at long last.

A quick, gentle word about optimism, and this darling snuggling photo of Handsome with Maddie:

At our friend Maddie’s recent high school performance of Shrek, one song stood out to me and actually kind of hit me like a marshmallow sledgehammer. The character Fiona was singing a funny lament about how many years she had been locked away in her tower, about for how very long she had been wishing for her prince to rescue her (insert your own long-awaited miracle at this point). Then in the scene when it finally happens, when Shrek finally comes to release her from her bondage, she proclaims, “I knew it would happen TODAY!”

TODAY. Fiona knew, all those days and years leading up to her big moment, that her answer would come. She surrounded herself with evidence of other princesses and their unique moments of redemption. As her own waiting and captivity stretched on, she may have felt discouraged sometimes but still knew in some funny, weird way that it would happen today. The only detail missing was exactly which today it would be. And so, with that deep knowledge, she never gave up.

Okay, I will leave that with you for a while, to marinate. Please get back with me and share your thoughts. The whole notion that today is all we have, that this moment is all there ever is, that presence and attention are powerful, well, it will not let go of me. And it all leads me to crave more space. And I knew that springtime would eventually happen, that it would happen on some unknown today. And I know that all of our hardest-yearned for prayers will also be answered, on some very special today that is very much worth waiting for.

A final thought about Fiona? She waited, and she trusted, but her answer was still a miraculous surprise. Remember? It was not exactly what she imagined: It was far better. So friends, let’s stay open to the shock and trembling joy of all that is possible in our lives. Let’s crate and hold space for whatever is coming. And then relax back into the present moment.

I love you. I wish you only the best of every detail. Please come visit our baby peeps before they grow up.

“Past and future veil God from our sight.
Burn up both of them with fire.”
~Rumi
XOXOXOXO