Lazy W Marie

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

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The Forest Incident: an Epilogue in Photos

   Yesterday I posted a rather lengthy tale about getting lost in the forest with M Half. I chose not to illustrate it partly because neither of us took a camera that day and also because that post was so blessedly long already.  Wowsa! Sharing that much was cathartic and a little exhausting, but it could have been an even longer story, you guys. A lot happened that day. Trust me.
   Now I need to tell you that a couple of weeks after that traumatic life event, M Half was here at the farm again and we took another trip into the forest, this time with a camera. This second trip was only about a third as deep as the first. We came out this time not only emotionally unscathed but also carrying a glorious souvenir! Here’s a shorter, happier tale for you this fine Tuesday evening.
This is the people view of most of the Pine Forest. 
Tall, straight tree trunks thrusting confidently into the open sky.
We enjoy a limited population of child-eating cows in this area.
This is the place we casually dubbed Yoga Meadow. 
It’s a small but private clearing on the north edge of the forest. 
On a a recent trip there by myself I discovered 
lots of new spring flowers and budding trees.
So beautiful…
Okay. This is called the Murder Sheyed.
I feel like I don’t want to explain that. Okay?
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What I will tell you guys is that
sometimes when I visit the forest
that creaky looking door is open, like it is in this photo.
Other times, with no interference from us,
it is not only closed but LOCKED.
No one lives on this property, you guys.
No one except, perhaps… Sasquatch.
This tree takes my breath away.
Look at how smoothly it genuflects toward the earth.
Here is the climbing tree we’ve been talking about.
Don’t you agree it is perfectly designed? 
The branches are arranged in a spiral staircase around the trunk.
It’s almost too easy.
Here is a little drop off and deer track tattooed by shadows.
I love that thick carpet of pine needles…
Bouncy, muffled, slightly crunchy…
When I was little I remember wishing I could nap in places like this.
When my girls were little they would ask for bedtime stories
about the Pine Forest of MY childhood, 
a big beautiful one in southeastern Oklahoma.
And here is the rusty blue treasure 
that tempted us back into the forest
despite our recent trauma.
We saw it near a trash heap and wondered at the way
it was perched so uprightly in those trees. 
Like someone had just finished riding it 
and had set it on its kickstand for a while.
The bike was so well buried in the forest and surrounded by thicket
that actually laying hands on it
required some patience and George Bush-style strategerie.
So worth it!
Oh, look. I am a huge dork.
This is how we show things on the farm. 
We pretend to be Vanna.
We call it Vanna-ing.
After wrestling the bike from its forest embrace,
M Half and I spent a little time busting the immovable chain 
and tearing the rotted rubber away from the wheels
in hopes of the whole thing rolling smoothly back to the farm.
Well, it never “rolled” exactly, but we did gain a little mobility.
And we did feel pretty invincible after the demolition.
And we did need hot, soapy showers after the exertion. Gross.
   So there you have it. The forest doesn’t always chew us up and spit us out; sometimes it offers little gifts. Right now the bike sits at our front door with some pansies and metal artwork from New Orleans. I have high hopes of eventually securing it to the brick wall above our kitchen door and using it to grow morning glory vines, like a cool rusted trellis. Again, if we are friends, you will not warn my husband of this plan. He is more worried about vines above doorways than I am about bloodthirsty cows.
Be Brave. 
xoxoxo

Cheer Us Up You Guys!

   We are in desperate need of some cheering up around here, you guys! Both of us for a change, not just one of us, so I am doing what any self respecting Apronista would do… cooking up a house full of comfort food. My friend Marci would be so proud. Her favorite method of stress management is definitely cooking (she is highly skilled in the kitchen, that doesn’t hurt), followed closely by laughing till her face hurts. So maybe tonight after we fill our bellies Handsome and I can latch onto something hilarious. 
   For supper we’re having roasted garlic-lemon chicken with the skin on so it gets all crispy golden and a little greasy. Also Parmesan-stuffed zucchini and hot buttered egg noodles. Perhaps you’ve noticed we are on neither the Paleo diet nor Atkins. And I wish I could boast that the noodles are made from scratch, but they’re just not. They were on sale, though. So there’s that.
   Then to wash all of that down we’ll try a new chocolate chip cookie recipe. Like most people, we have had our favorite said cookie for many years and don’t deviate too easily. But sweet Edie over at lifeingrace says that these delicacies are worthy of their own Facebook page. Ha!! Awesome. That’s my kinda cookie!  So I have a big sweet, salty batch mixed up and am just now inhaling the first tendrils of sugary, chocolaty aromas from the oven. The fact that it’s interlaced with buttery garlic and sometimes that bright green jolt of softening zucchini does not hurting my feelings.
   I seem to have our caloric intake covered for tonight. Maybe enough for tomorrow, too. So that leaves us still needing the hysterical, eye watering, stomach stiffening laughter. What do you say? What can you offer us that might make us laugh uncontrollably tonight??
LOL, please!
xoxoxoxo

Sun Worshipers Rejoice!

   In our little slice of heaven, the clock has made its annual adjustment forward, making the sunrise a bit later and the sunset later too. And I could not be happier! The first morning is always the most difficult, of course, and most of my friends joined me in accidentally sleeping late because the sun was nowhere to be found at the usual “time.” Whatever “time” means to you.
This leafy mess is the area outside my kitchen window 
where I’ll soon be installing an herb garden.
   Aside from this first dark thrust into the new work week, though, the beginning of Daylight Savings Time is a wonderful thrill for me! It is one more signal that winter is closing up shop. Springtime conditions are in full force in Oklahoma already, but now even the calendar agrees. It gives me butterflies. Or, chickens. Or whatever.
The chickens are more than happy to scratch up the weeds
and devour whatever bugs they can find,
especially when I tempt them with a good layer of manure.
This loosens up the heavy clay and saves me a lot of time with the spade.
It’s like slave labor. Only more symbiotic.
   Now we can cook more slowly in the evening and hopefully crave less heavy meals, too. We can eat dinner, clean up the dishes, and still have time to walk around the farm without a flashlight. We can feed a second round of kitchen scraps to the chickens in the evenings because they’ll be foraging still. Handsome can feel the sun on his skin every day now, rather than just see it through his airtight office windows, so we anticipate spending more hours together outside, and not just on the weekends. This is such a good time of year.
Of course, Mia supervises the whole operation.
   On top of all of this, I am feeling so thankful for the gentle, consistent rain! It bears repeating that after last year’s brutality, this year’s mildness will be reverently accepted as an undeserved gift every single day.
   Interestingly, in addition to the clock shift, we are also in the beginning days of a waning moon here. So I suppose after finishing some housework I should get to work on soil amendment and planting potatoes, garlic, carrots, and radishes, which are all below ground crops.

   The many slices of time and season that God gives us are so fascinating! A time for everything, for every purpose under heaven.

Thirteen Days Till my Beekeeping Class!!
Have a Beautiful, Productive Day, Everyone!
xoxoxo

Obla-di-Obla-dah!

   Thanks to a writing prompt from Momma Kat, a slightly frustrated craving to see exactly how the heck I have been spending all of this abundant time and energy, and fully charged camera batteries,yesterday I decided it was time for another day-in-the-life entry. This is how Monday went for me. Prepare to be thrilled bored.

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6:15 a.m. Good morning! Coffee for me, coffee, breakfast and lunch made for Handsome, checking progress of my windowsill bean sprouts, chat, chat, chat, kiss, kiss, kiss, promise to mend a shirt, listen to the woodpeckers, cardinals, horses, and Oklahoma breezes… Dark, moody morning. Cannot even tell where the sun is, it’s so cloudy. 
These soaking lentils have finally grown tails! 
   I love that feeling of suspense before weather arrives. Wonder if I should write early this morning or move on to work first. Then I hear all at once a goose, a chicken, and the buffalo, begging for breakfast, so my choice is made for me. Work first.
7:35 a.m. Consciously choosing to pray for the girls today rather than just hope and worry. This may be easy for you, but it takes a lot of energy for me lately. It is hard, until that moment when it finally happens. Then love and relief  wash through me. 
These are wild budding branches collected during a fated hiking trip last weekend.
7:44 a.m. I release the birds, start laundry, strip sheets off of the bed, empty the fridge of leftovers to fill the chicken bowl, give Pacino some TLC, tidy up the downstairs, etc. Think to myself, Wow, two exhausted people can really do some damage to a clean house! And then I am instantly happy we were able to relax so deeply this past weekend.
Good morning Mia! 
Good morning all the other birds!

Good morning Daphne!
Behold the reason why I don’t take pictures of things while I am doing them.
Thankfully Chunk-Hi is cool with a little fluff scuffing 
to let his breakfast fall to the ground.
Our egg count has been suspiciously low this week, and I think I know why…
the hens think it is Easter and are hiding their eggs everywhere again!
Public Service Announcement, with help from the very attentive Mia:
Always, always always hang your rake out of your walkway.
Away, always, always. Not doing this is a painful, expensive mistake you guys.
8:35 a.m.  The animals are all happy for a few hours, so I attack the kitchen which was damaged by Hurricane Weekend. Scrub fridge, rotate laundry, etc.

8:52 a.m.  Discovered hay in my bra. 
9:20 a.m.  Breakfast looks good, but the milk had turned blinky. This is important news, believe it or not. The potability of milk is a real hot button topic on our home. I think milk is almost always good and fit for human consumption; my guy begs to differ. In a big way. So anytime I discover milk I won’t drink, I am pretty much obligated to announce it. This milk was baaaaad. More on that drama later tonight.
9:35 a.m. Upstairs to iron shirts for the week, add clean sheets to our bed, clean bathroom, etc, etc. 
10:50 a.m. Caught up on work for a while, I decide to have a little lunch and write. Which really means I am reading. Which means I get in the mood to write again, so I do, resulting in the hay story and some other stuff. 
1:00 p.m. Continue the laundry rodeo, check on animals, gear myself up for some scooping work.
This is horse manure and Oklahoma red dirt. 
This proved to be too heavy for one load.
It almost popped the front tire of my wheelbarrow.
This is Dusty, the girls’ horse.
He is such a sweetie, and he was
beyond-words curious about the manure removal.
Love you Dusty!
Love you Joc & Jess!
1:30 p.m. Noticing the future site of my herb garden is looking pretty spiffy, thanks to the chickens’ hard work! I take a much needed water break and head back to the raised beds.
Dreaming of a curved line of monkey grass, herbs galore, and blooming cannas…
The day lilies are convinced that spring has sprung!
The guineas had convened at one of our raised beds.
They were debating the republican Presidential bids, 
the deregulation of phone companies, and 
whether to relocate their nighttime perch based on the storm predictions.
They never once solicited my thoughts on any of these topics.
2:25 Final laundry details, cuddle with Mia, three more loads of soggy ashes from the fire pit to the garden, and a little more day dreaming and praying for the girls.
3:12 p.m. Sweep floors again (because of the hay), put away clean dishes, etc.
3:24 p.m. Extra hard cardio exercise and some stretching, toning, etc, felt GREAT after a sedentary weekend! Showered, relaxed a bit before Handsome made it home, brewed some fresh sweet tea.
5:40 p.m. Welcome home!! So good to kiss his face, listening to a few hilarious stories from the office, then greeting a family at the driveway who has come to look at an item we have for sale on Craigslist. They are a husband, a wife, and two young girls. The wife and children have taken a shine to the animals and are full of questions and willingness to feed treats, and Mia has chosen one of the little girls as his own. He climbs her, kisses her, and messes up her feathers with his muddy beak. It is magical. As they are about to leave, the family’s Ford truck keys are discovered inside their locked Ford truck. So we all watch the sun set as the husbands fiddle with that problem. At some point the mom good-naturedly blames Mia, thinking he must have delayed their departure on purpose to enjoy extra cuddles. We all agree. They eventually get it unlocked and drive away, smiling and waving. To Mia and the horses and buffalo, not to us. This happens a lot.
6:30-ish Handsome and I race back to the house from closing our front gate, I try not to wet my pants because he is chasing me screaming, and we lock up the birds for the night. Then we retreat inside for dinner, a little television, and zipping up the kitchen one last time.
8:14 p.m. Remember the blinky milk? Well, my guy, unwilling to let this go, shrouds his lactose victory in a veil of chivalry and offers to take me to the store to replace the rotten grocery item. I reluctantly agree, because this means I have admitted defeat. But seriously I might want cheerios again tomorrow, so I find a sweater and we drive to Braum’s. Where I buy a lot more than a gallon of milk. That’ll teach him!
He more or less forbids me from showing his face. 
So this is his muscular shoulder, on which I am known 
to cuddle, cry, lean, and sleep.
   Shopping at Braum’s was an event unto itself. We switched register lines three times. The nice woman who finally took our plastic money wanted lots of explanations about why we switched lines, which was difficult to provide since we had just come to terms with it ourselves. And there might have been both zombies and hidden cameras in that store. It was an odd shopping excursion. But seriously…
I firmly believe that Braum’s dairy products are superior to all others. 
And not just because I worked there in high school. 
That is my second public service announcement from yesterday.
Somewhere around 10 p.m. Handsome had drifted off to a half sleep on the couch, so I grinded up some Costa Rica coffee beans for the morning (thanks M!!) and we headed upstairs…
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   Overall it was a really productive, happy day, hemmed up with love and prayer. Feeling very blessed and hopeful. Mostly because of the fresh milk in the fridge.
Redeem your Time & be Happy
xoxoxo

Mama's Losin' It

Disturbance in the Force

   This morning I was minding my own business, pacing energetically through the normal list of Monday morning jobs, staying effortlessly positive and upbeat about stuff in general, and even whistling. Well, sort of whistling, the best I can at least. I managed to actually pray this morning instead of just worry and hope. The farm was happy and in the sleepy process of hunkering down for the predicted rain. My husband had made it to the office mostly rejuvenated and healthy after a really nice weekend. All was well in Denmark, as they say. Or so it seemed.
   I leaned over to retrieve some clean silverware from the bottom shelf of the dishwasher, caught a whiff of both bleach and vanilla on the way down, then started feeling weird. I was physically uncomfortable, out of the blue, but I had no idea why. My jeans felt strange, my red sweater was definitely getting on my nerves, and my sunglasses which had been perched meaninglessly on my head (it’s super cloudy today, no sun, no need for shades, but gosh I like ’em) crashed down on my nose. Rudely. Everything was suddenly wrong.
   I looked around the kitchen cautiously, wondering what the heck was going on. I had an urgent need to escape something, but I didn’t know what, so I listened in perfect stillness for any animal alerts. Usually if an earthquake is coming or a stranger has pulled through the front gate, the geese and guineas will let me and everyone else on our road know about it. Loudly.
   But there was almost perfect silence. And this elusive feeling of discomfort was changing over into a needling pain in several places all over my body, so I investigated.
   What I discovered was maddening and relieving all at once. I had hay. In my bra. And in my jeans. And in everything. And it was itchy.
   I had raked and distributed hay to the four leggeds like half an hour earlier, and that’s the only time it could have found its way into my not loose clothing and undergarments. Plus I had been wearing a coat. So why I was just then noticing it while tidying up the kitchen is a true mystery. But removing it suddenly became the most important thing in my life.  I became very goal oriented in that moment, working to remove the hay pronto, because no  matter how soft and sticker-free it might seem for eating and carrying, it is just not comfortable as skivvies.
   So the hay got removed, right there in the kitchen, and I silently added sweep the floor again to my Monday list.
   Now the disturbance in the force has been soothed and Denmark is once again a peaceful nation. Woohoo! I am kind of glad the bleach and vanilla fragrances had nothing to do with this.

Hay is for Horses, not Bras, Please
xoxoxo