Lazy W Marie

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

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peace returned, power never diminished

I woke up in the middle of the night shaken from a series of difficult dreams and instantly aware of some real life problems weighing heavily on my heart and mind. I was almost panting from the sudden onslaught, my eyes torn open, my stomach queasy, and every muscle in my body tense. Rather than lay there wrestling myself back into sleep and trying once more to sort out my thoughts (focusing on my worries lately seems to strengthen them), I stood up. Slipped out of our spacious upstairs bedroom with some comfortable clothes and my rolled up purple yoga mat. Tiptoed downstairs, got dressed and gathered my hair into a loose bun, and began. For half an hour I enjoyed stretching, breathing, twisting, holding, stretching and breathing more, and gradually returning my thoughts and facial expression to a place of peace and calm. My forehead and jaw relaxed. My smile felt easy again. My shoulders could drop back. And one by one, healthier, more life giving thoughts clicked back into position, simply and quietly, just as if they had been misplaced for a moment. An error easily corrected. Recoverable. Forgivable.

Almost four-thirty now. I feel like half of a new person. Hungry to keep this moment alive and this feeling going.

So I clicked on the coffee maker, snuggled Fast Woman and accepted her enthusiastic leg twirls, and took my favorite green notebook outside for a Senses Inventory. While the coffee brewed in the kitchen, I walked around taking stock of the midnight beauty outside in our south lawn. It was dark of course, but the longer I stayed (this time Geoffrey the gray and white barn cat was offering enthusiastic leg twirls), the more I could see. And the more deeply I breathed in the cool, clean air, the better I felt. It was magical.

The moon was particularly stunning. Not huge like it would have been on the horizon at dusk. No longer perfectly full or colored anything noteworthy according to the almanac. It was just so strong and heavy. Metallic. Constant. Suspended there above the south edge of our property, lending glimmering edges to everything around me, the very same moon we all have been watching for eons. And I couldn’t get enough.

I eventually finished my Senses Inventory, sat down, and put my notebook next to me on the iron bench. Geoffrey sprang up into my lap, purring, his fluffy tail swishing against my face. I felt like myself again, strong against the worries and difficult dreams that woke me an hour ago. Resilient against circumstances and people beyond my control. I felt very much at peace with and in control of my own small but expanding universe, which is my heart.

 

from Everyday Tao: Living With Balance and Harmony
from Everyday Tao: Living With Balance and Harmony

They say that these couple of hours between midnight and dawn are sacred. That this quiet time when the earth is asleep and gathering her energy again for the new day, that this is when we can tap into something rare and powerful, a meditative time of day when our hearts and minds are more susceptible to change and inspiration. Renewal. Communication with Love.

I experienced that again early this morning. The longer I sat there in the moon shadows the more firmly rooted I felt in my heart. Buoyant, light, and strong. Freed from anger and bitterness in a way that articulated for me what was wrong in the first place. Answers actually came.

Love always welcomes us back. A return to peace is always possible. For this I am so grateful.

Love is All You Need
XOXOXOXO

marathon monday: what’s your worst outfit?

One day last week I finished up a hectic afternoon of running errands by stopping at that one-mile loop track that’s sort of near the farm. I sprinted for three sweaty, desperate miles, making eye contact with nobody, then hurried back to my Jeep and made a beeline for home. Once there I kissed my husband, who was working on his Camaro and thankfully didn’t need a lot of eye contact, then made a second beeline to the shower and then my closet for fresh clothes. I’m not always in such a hurry to shed my running layers, but on this day my running layers were embarrassing.

I was wearing third-day, baggy yoga pants, full length ones with wide bottom legs that went swish-swash with every stride. Also the kind with a wide elastic flap at your hips that when flipped over reveals a super classy word, etched in sequins. Totally appropriate for a woman my age. Oh, but I tend to wear these pants wrong side out because I hate the way those sequins feel against the small of my back if that flap flips up. Which it often does. So, third-day, baggy, wrong-side-out yoga pants with bell bottoms that could start a campfire.

I was also wearing a lavender-colored stretch cotton pajama top, some ill-fitting Winnie the Pooh number from I cannot fathom what chapter of life (it looks like a maternity top but isn’t), and my husband’s athletic socks. Picture, if you will, the heel contour landing somewhere north of my ankle and near my calf muscle. Not that you could see that. On account of my super classy yoga pants.

I looked less like a runner and more like a person who had just awoken from a coma that had started long ago, while nursing a baby during a Britney Spears video.

My only semblance of normalcy was that pair of new blue and turquoise Brooks that still looked pretty fresh. Those shoes alone carried all the heavy burden of making me look like a legit runner at the track that day. Apparently I care about this now.

shoes

Why such shoddy attire? Because I hadn’t done laundry in several days. So all my workout gear was used up. Nor had I showered very recently.

These were facts of life because our septic tank was near capacity.

This was because Oklahoma has been enjoying a deluge of steady rainfall for weeks now.

Our water table is full. Our well is full. Our pond is full. And so, as things go, is our septic tank. Or at least it was last week, and I was exercising an abundance of caution. Trust me: not showering and not doing laundry is not my thing.

Anyway, the next time you see a badly dressed person at the running track, resist judgement and assume that he or she has a good reason for it. Things happen.

After all, color-coordinated spandex and witty racer back tees are for the drought.

The End.
XOXO

 

 

 

 

yet another kale salad & some recipe reviews

Howdy! And thanks for checking in again! It’s Tuesday, so let’s see what’s up in the Lazy W kitchen.

What we’re eating a lot of these days: EGGS. So many eggs, in so many wonderful incarnations. The hens are laying maniacs this week! Yesterday I collected 22. That’s a lot for us. So we are compelled to find more and more ways to eat our weight in these little nutritious miracles. Fried, hard-boiled, cheesy breakfast sandwiches, mushroom omelettes, Quiche, eggs cooked hot and runny over kale, you name it. Liquid chickens are on the menu! Handsome may or may not be getting tired of this.

Speaking of kale, I am still eating lots of that, too. Although, and maybe you’ve noticed this yourself, the grocery store offerings are starting to taste a little drab and bitter as the season progresses. So I’m relying more heavily on what the raised beds provide. Fresh baby kale to the rescue!! Last night I found a bunch and a half of not great grocery store kale in the refrigerator plus half a bag of languishing clementines. (How long have we had those?) Together these two nearly expired food stuffs comprised a really delicious salad base.

kale citrus 1

kale citrus 2

Try this salad:

As always, just wash the kale, remove the “bones” (do any other veggies have bones?), slice it up really skinny, and massage those kale ruffles with just 2 teaspoons of your fave olive oil. Toss all of that with freshly squeezed clementine juice then some black pepper and sea salt. Add a plain roasted sweet potato and chicken breast if you want. The clementines made it all much sweeter than normal, a great flavor combination with the roasted sweet potato. Do you like those salads with chicken and strawberries? Not at all unlike that deliciousness. And supremely filling.

bowl 1

bowl 2

 

Okay, now on to a few recipe experiments and reviews of each:

Bacon-Cheddar Scones: I made this recipe, with a few minor tweaks, for my Mom for Mother’s Day. She is taking her diabetes and health very seriously, yay Mom! So I feel guilty loading her up with desserts no matter the special occasion. A double-protein treat seemed better. (I used oven-cooked bacon instead of ham, by the way.) She really seemed to liked these, so this recipe is a keeper. Sometimes don’t you crave a dense, buttery scone instead of a more delicate pastry? I do. So on a special brunch day I’ll make it for us here at the farm. Bacon and cheddar scones. Oh, quick tip! Freeze your stick of butter at least partially then grate it into your dry ingredients, and don’t overdo it with the mixing!

Turkey Burgers: I was a huge fan of this recipe, but Handsome was decidedly not. No offense to the recipe itself; the ground turkey is just not a texture he could handle. He barely gagged down half of his, so we won’t be sharing this meal again. Like, ever. But since I have more ground turkey in the freezer, I’ll make a batch of these for myself once in a while, only with less dark mustard next time. Also, in the spirit of use what you have, I added a little shredded mozzarella instead of fancy cheese. Plenty good enough for a weeknight or for a healthy lunch. Turkey Burgers

Roasted Garlic Humus: Okay, this recipe we agreed was wonderful. This is good news, too, because a craving for humus was the main reason I spent $10 on a jar of tahini. (Yikes!) Next time for the sake of my husband’s stomach health I’ll use less (or zero) roasted garlic, and eventually I’ll invest in a food processor. My trusty blender did an okay job of destroying the tender beans, but the finished product was slightly chunkier than I would expect humus to be. Overall, easy and so good! Really good with whole wheat pita bread and celery. Roasted Garlic Humus

Iron Skillet Focaccia: Oh man, friends, I am a sucker for good focaccia. It has got to be the loveliest of all homemade breads, right? Especially with fresh rosemary, some olive oil, maybe a splash of vinegar. Or nothing at all! It’s so good naked, and the whole baking process imparts a cozy sexiness to your home. But sometimes the day is too full and the kitchen counter is too crowded for rolling out the heavy dough, kneading it, allowing it to rise seven million times, etcetera. I mean… Those things are satisfying and worthwhile, just not always possible. Well, I happened upon this recipe last week on just such a day and was thrilled with the results! We don’t eat bread much these days, so when we do I want it to be pretty gangbusters. This was a success. Try it. You will not be sad. Easy No Knead Skillet Bread

focaccia

Okay that’s it for now! I’m reading my way into an appetite for food by Elizabeth David, but that’s for another day. Tell me something you have tried cooking lately. I’d love to hear. Over and out!

“Calvin: Why are you crying mom?
Mom: I’m cutting up an onion.
Calvin: It must be hard to cook if you anthrpomorphisize your vegetables.” *
~Bill Watterson, The Complete Calvin and Hobbes
XOXOXOXO

 

*LOL

rainy saturday reading links

Happy Saturday! If you are anywhere close to our neck of the woods, then you are probably spending a lot of today indoors. Again. Oklahoma is hunkered down beneath one deluge after another, and we’re not mad. We’re soggy, but we’re not mad. The years-long drought is becoming a distant memory, so it’s okay. In case you’re sitting around open to errant reading material, here is a Literary Saturday offering by yours truly. I hope you enjoy.

full rainbow

I’m not the only woman dealing with body comparison fatigue, and apparently it happens a lot after a tough race. Gina (The Fitnessista) wrote about it here and really has some smart insight. I like how she zeroes in on the negative affects of comparison but also the benefits. Give it a whirl. Monica also touched on the topic here, and if you must know, her feelings are so close to mine about being a runner but not feeling like you look like one. Finally, Lora just ran a really successful Boston Marathon and is glowing! Boston, you guys! And her time was amazing. But still she is struggling with body image/weight loss issues within her own heart, and she shares a lot of that right here. My heart absolutely goes out to this young woman. I tell ya, it all messes with my head, so I’m so grateful for these beautiful ladies exposing their feelings so I feel less alone and maybe reconsider my approach/attitude.

This statue in New Orleans never changes, of course. Every year I look different next to him. LOL Suck it in lady!! haha
This statue in New Orleans never changes, of course. Every year I look different next to him. LOL Suck it in lady!! haha

Along a sunnier vein, here is a sweet, simple article by the Huffington Post about the Keys to Happiness. I also watched a not too long Ted talk this week that was very thought provoking. It asked whether life events can really affect our happiness past about six months. The speaker asserted that the seemingly huge life events we experience, whether we perceive them as amazing or disastrous, only affect our current happiness level for a few months. After that, our happiness is a matter of our own perception or determination of life. Really interesting! What do you think?

It’s Mother’s Day weekend, and Ann Voskamp is doing anything but making it easy for us. Her words are the gritty, nourishing antidote to all the flowers, pedicures, and desserts about to happen. I was shamed to read How to be a Revolutionary Mother, but also deeply inspired. We have seen so many miracles in our family, and I have this feeling that we are about to see more. My faith in God’s goodness and power is really strong, but as a mother I also have my part to play. I’m ready.

Bon Appetit is courting me hard with this article about pesto. This same magazine first suggested the idea a few years ago, that pesto doesn’t have to be just basil and pine nuts; they seduced me with ideas involving carrot tops. Now they are really branching out, and I groove it. I groove it so hard. I even spent $10 on a jar of tahini with big plans to make all the things.

Sandy, The Reluctant (and wonderful!) Entertainer writes something lovely almost every day. But in this particular post, well, she just gets me. “What you think, you become. What you feel, you attract. What you imagine, you create.” YES! This is scary true. And I often get lost just drooling over her party photos and recipes, so be warned. The RE website is brimming with goodness.

Positive-Quotes

This story just popped up on my news feed today, and it’s so refreshing! Read it and see if this young woman, an art director, doesn’t remind you a little of Albert Einstein. I think her message is brilliant. For the record, my daily uniform around the farm is: Skinny jeans with either a tank top or a 3/4 length sleeve top. Messy bun. Bare feet or flip flops. Two necklaces at least.

Okay, now I am signing off to do some book reading and maybe cuddle up with Handsome for movies. There’s only so much time we can spend fawning over the new baby chicks, after all. Wishing you and yours a dry enough and very happy weekend!

XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

 

 

 

friday 5 at the farm: fast woman

We have an indoor cat now and I kind of need to talk about it.

Let’s back up.

Do you know Fast Woman? The cat? Have you met her? Have I ever even mentioned this sweet crazy girl here before? Of all our many animals, Fast Woman has been part of our farm-ily second to the longest. She was born right around the same month we bought this place, actually, and she grew up tall and she grew up right with the Oklahoma cats on an Oklahoma night.

Sorry.

fast woman

Once upon a time Fast Woman gave us twenty thousand litters of perfect little kittens before I finally caught her to go get fixed. (Open laundry baskets and running cars don’t work with cats, FYI. I didn’t know. And she didn’t trust me for a while after that first try.)

Hey don’t you agree that getting an animal “fixed” is actually getting it broken? Whatevv.

All these years she has been an outdoor cat, wilding herself between the barn and the llama sheds, the gardens and the forest. She’s always been happy this way, and we have known this because on the rare occasions that we brought her indoors she would open her eyes to a terrifying wideness and jump straight up in the air, flinging her body against any window or door to escape.

She hated the indoors but ruled the barnyard. We were all at peace with this arrangement.

Then we adopted three more barn cats who regarded her as the interloper, not the princess of the Lazy W she truly is. To avoid being slap-battled and actively hated by Sonya and Natasha especially, Fast Woman wilded herself more deeply into the forest. She stayed gone for days.

Feral, almost. We missed her.

She visited the house sporadically for a while, then less and less, and sometimes her long periods of absence were so prolonged that we worried for her safety. We called for her, tried baiting her with food at the edge of the forest, and did all the magic card tricks and sorcery we knew to bring her home.

She just didn’t appear for a long time.

Then one day she did!

She crept around the south edge of the bonfire yard early one morning while we were Hot Tub Summit-ing, and Handsome carried her to the house, past the bully cats, into safety. This time, finally, she didn’t peel back her eyelids. She didn’t try jumping up and through every pane of glass to escape. Instead, she happily twirled our legs and purred and accepted every single edible treat we offered, which were many. So many. We were all three quite in love. Well, four if you count Pacino. But she does not reciprocate his deep and abiding love even though cats are his favorite next to baby chicks.

Anyway.

So, now Fast Woman is an indoor cat and I am smitten but at some loss. I’ve not lived indoors with a cat since I was about twelve or thirteen years old, and that cat wasn’t really my responsibility. His name was Garfunkle. He had a friend named Simon, in case you want to know.

Anyway, I have a lot to learn about indoor cats. And a lot of questions.

For Friday 5 this week, how about…

Things I Didn’t know About Indoor Cats:

  1. They actually ARE nocturnal! I sort of thought this was an old wive’s tale. Not at all. She sleeps all dang day (on the prettiest, comfiest couch we own) then around the time we head upstairs she’s like party tiiiiime!! The first two nights were like having a newborn, because I didn’t yet grasp the idea that she could be left to her own devices.
  2. Cats snore. Whoa, it’s actually a really adorable cross between snoring and purring, and it’s quite loud. You can hear it from upstairs if you’re quiet enough. I love it.
  3. Cats know the difference between the sound of a can of tuna being opened and a can of, say, tomatoes or cream of mushroom soup being opened. That’s just amazing.
  4. Sudden noises are scary to cats. I was frying an egg this morning and some butter popped and sizzled, and she lost her little cat mind. Back to the eyelid peeling and window pane jumping. Mix into that some cowering beneath the dining room table.
  5. Cats don’t come to you; they beckon you. Every other animal on the farm, with the possible exception of Dulcinea the hormonal llama, will come to you if you call. This includes the barn cats! Fast Woman, on the other hand, cannot be convinced to join us very many places inside the house. She’s just too comfy. She is, however, super happy if I join her on her couch. Which used to be my reading couch. Now it’s her shedding couch.

As I read back over this list I realize these things are perfectly cliche. Obviously I’m noticing exactly the things which comprise all classic cat jokes, which means I am probably well on my way to more cat cliches.

I’m okay with that. She is the best.

“The cat loves fish but hates wet feet.”
~Medieval Proverb
(also true)
XOXOXO