Lazy W Marie

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

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fake it till you make it? or just a word swap?

I went to sleep Sunday night in a grim mood and, despite sleeping well, woke up more or less the same way. Except with the benefit of a crystal clear dream, something that eventually motivated me.

The rest of the day was, in fact, just another Manic Monday, though in the dream I was not kissing Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream.

The dream was just a short little thing about social media, what to do when I wake up, and some big wishes finally coming true. (Sometimes my dreams are more like glyphs than storyboards, ok, just go with it.)

Today was the kind of day when I needed a pep talk, and I was frustrated that nobody was around to offer one. I don’t have Monday morning staff meetings or a manager who gives me feedback or even children at home whose mood and radiant lines of success might give an indication about my own. I have lots of beloved animals, but their feedback is, let’s face it, pretty narrow in scope. They know nothing about my life goals or spiritual path or overarching, you know, peopley stuff.

Normally happy way deep down in my bones and on fire, especially in the early mornings, today I just went through the motions for a few hours, doing the normal basic Monday tasks. Then went for a run.

My mind was a maelstrom of negative thoughts, so much so that by the end of eight miles my face was as wet from crying as from the rain.

Because of course it rained all day on a Monday when I was feeling super pissed, haha.

Normally I love the rain. Anyway.

But for the dream that warned me about something as much as it encouraged me about some promises, I might have vented on Facebook. Instead, I breathed deeply for many hours and just tried to keep steady. 

It had been a while since I felt the need to fake it till I make it. But a lightbulb went off.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be fake. Maybe at vulnerable times, we can simply choose a better thought. Take a deep breath, acknowledge the bummer feelings, then turn to embrace something better.

I’m a sucker for words and, in fact, believe they hold a lot of actual power. So I tried something. I just started writing down the annoying phrases that had consumed me all morning and reworked them into more constructive versions of the “truth.”

  • I feel smothered. I am loved and needed.
  • There’s too much to do, it’s never-ending. Life is full and beautiful.
  • I’m gaining weight and don’t feel good. We have enjoyed a relaxing summer and food is plentiful.
  • When will this nightmare end? God is in control.
  • Everything is such a far drive away. We have the private oasis we need and love. 
  • Medical marijuana in Oklahoma? Are you KIDDING me?? People who need it will get the help they need. 
  • I will never qualify for Boston at this freaking rate. There is no time limit on good health.
  • I miss her so much, this is killing me. God has reconnected you once before. He will do it again.

And so forth. I scribbled for a long time.

What struck me after a while was that the new, more pleasant versions actually seemed truer. More accurate. The darker phrases looked ugly and distorted. 

Life really is great. Things are way better than they seem at times. And that was the nutshell of my personal pep talk to myself today. 

The next time you need a pep talk and no one is around to offer it, try this exercise. Write down all the things that are ruffling your feathers and convert them forcibly, harnessing the power of words.  

Choose a better path. Fake it for just a minute. You will make it.

“Perpetual optimism
is a force multiplier.”
~Colin Powell
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

 

 

cultivate

After a gentle, soaking rain this morning, we went outside to survey the farm and accept some of the afternoon’s unexpected sunshine. It was warm, but in the shade still plenty comfortable. My husband loaded the spool of the weedeater and started tracing clean lines around every raised bed, sidewalk, and rock border. This makes us both so happy. Clean edges are heaven.

I fed the animals, played fetch with Klaus, and started pulling weeds from inside those edges. So many weeds lately, everywhere you look. The lushness of our summer weather extends to all forms of life at the Lazy W.

I mentally celebrated the rambling hyacinth bean vines and vibrant gomphrena and zinnias, gave thanks for the tomatoes and basil, and got a jolt of early excitement thinking of the seeds that were planted yesterday, in the bare earth where all forms of zucchini vines had been. (I do hate squash bugs.)

Then I saw the daylilies. They seem to have stopped blooming too early this year, and that’s a shame because they are normally so tall and gorgeous, such a deep, electric shade of orange. Lately, I see only the decapitated stalks, sometimes hanging onto a withered dry bloom, the plants’ brown leaves falling exhaustedly downward. Too early.

I started combing away the dead parts, gloveless, and scooping them into my wheelbarrow already full of weeds and dead stuff. My hands went after the task easily, twisting and pulling old lilies from the pliant earth.

I caught sight of one fistful of green and brown and realized it was not lilies. I was pulling grass, too. But a foot or two up, the grass looked and felt so much like the daylilies that I hadn’t noticed. I threaded my way up and down and forested through the flower bed to see exactly what was growing and where.

I was kind of stunned to see how much grass was choking out the daylily stands, but also relieved. Maybe cleaning everything out would rejuvenate the flower bed.

The thing that really stuck with me was how similar the grass felt to the flowers. An uninvited imitator, a fraud. And one that had gone undetected for a while yet was easily uprooted.

It all leaned hard into my thinking lately about cultivating. Pulling up what doesn’t belong to make room for what does. Cultivating. Feeding what you want to grow. Eliminating what no longer serves you. I couldn’t stop smiling as those grassroots popped out of the damp earth and sprinkled dirt on my face and arms. 

This is a snapshot of the shade garden about a week ago. It has already changed so much, again.

Cultivate.

Cultivate our homes, our work environments. Our routines. Our work products, after all. Our diets. Our social media feeds. Our reading material. Our schedules. 

Cultivate our relationships. Our friendships, family bonds, romances, all of it.

I adore the idea of cultivating our lives in every way. To my thinking, it all comes down to the smallest things. For all the big planning we do, all the garden architecture and herculean seasonal efforts, sometimes we need to kneel down and feel each thing by hand, no gloves, face to face with the details. Uproot the bad habits in the exact moments that you see them and make the yes/no choices one at a time, slowly and mindfully. 

So that all the things we do want more of have all the space they need to flourish. 

Just some food for thought on this gorgeous Sunday afternoon. 

“We must cultivate our own garden.
When man was put in the garden of Eden
he was put there so that he should work,
which proves that man was not born to rest.”
~ Voltaire
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

thoughts on filling a god-sized vacancy

God-sized vacancies.

In recent months some trusted and deeply loving friends have helped us come to grips with features of addiction, and the simplest and best message from all this has been the idea that every human is born with a God-sized vacancy. We each have a space within us that only our Creator can fit, satisfy, and make whole. 

Until we understand that, we all stumble about, trying a million different things to fill the void. We ache to not ache anymore, so we seek after things that will hopefully numb the pain, things like unnecessary food and alcohol, needless shopping, miles and miles of running, drugs, sex, and more. Everyone has something which can be taken to excess. It’s never better than a temporary pleasure, like drinking salt water to quench a very unique and specific thirst. Often it becomes a truly destructive force.  

The more this idea comes into focus, the more it helps me, both in private ways and as I think about and pray for my family. It’s become a touchstone for considering daily choices and evolving priorities:

  • Do I crave this (whatever) because I am aching for God in some secret way, and I need to tend that first? Is this pursuit a poor substitute for the Real Thing?
  • Or do I genuinely feel close to Him, and this craving compliments my spiritual walk?
an expanse of mountains draws out my thoughts and feelings the same way a starry night can

The notion of a God-sized vacancy has recently ignited an exciting new way to pray for loved ones who are suffering. A way of praying in order to close the gap which has been unapproachable to me.  

Find her and meet her needs in a mysterious and surprising way, just as you found me. Speak to her in the voice only she will recognize, just as you did with me years ago and still do now. 

It has been transformative, as simple as the idea is. 

Here’s a relevant passage from the Jesus Calling undated daily devotional:

Seek My Face, and you will find all that you have longed for. The deepest yearnings of your heart are for intimacy with Me. I know because I designed you to desire Me.

We are designed this way. It’s not a deficiency. It unites us all, you know?

I love these short verses in Psalms 42…

As a hart panteth after the water brook, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?

No earthly thing, no pleasure or possession or goal or anything, no matter how good and beautiful, can satisfy that deep, innate part of us meant only for Him. This isn’t terrifying to me; it’s deeply calming, comforting.

So this is all just some food for thought if you sense any reflexiveness or false satisfaction in your heart. If you have a hunger that is not satisfied by normal earthly things. And maybe especially if you love and pray for someone who is struggling with addiction or a lost feeling, a pain that nothing in your control will assuage. 

“Two powerful words that will instantly change your life…
I CHOOSE.”
~Carolee Waddoups
XOXOXOXO

 

full circle moments with jess and some veggie growing advice from grandpa stubbs

Hello, thanks for checking in!! Yesterday Jessica and I spent several hours together in the city, with the aim of installing her first garden. I have so much to tell you and will break this up into parts so you can read what interests you. It’s gonna be long. : )

Lunch and How Love Brings Us Full Circle

First, I picked her up at her new place and we drove south for lunch at the salad bar inside Green Acres health food store on 240. We both love salads and fruits and veggies to the max, and she said she had been craving it a little more than normal, so it was perfect. I loaded an obscene amount of everything into my plastic clamshell box and did not have leftovers.

We sat there talking about life and God’s plans for us and how things don’t always turn out the way we expect. But that His love and intentions for us are always good. She didn’t know that for several months now every message I get from God has been about unconditional trust. We reflected even more on her time in the convent in Germany last spring, on how her first month has been living on her own, and food and health and gardening and budgets.

The salad bar provided an excellent starting point for deciding which of the foods she likes to eat are also feasible for growing in Oklahoma. Not papaya, for example, but definitely cucumbers. We discussed homemade salad dressing and the past and the future.

And about how many small gestures or idiosyncracies she seems to have inherited from me. Ha!

Garden Shopping

After a refreshing lunch, we walked next door to Big Lots to buy her a shovel and a few other basic things, nothing fancy. (I still use a shovel I bought there over a decade ago!) She selected a pair of polka-dot cotton gardening gloves which were exactly her style but which later while digging in the dirt, she would toss aside because “It feels too impersonal.”

She used to say that when she was a little girl. At our old house in the city, the girls would sift the dirt with their tiny bare hands, twirl the earthworms between their skinny fingers, flood the backyard with hose water for “Mud Monster” days, and more. It was a very backyard-oriented childhood. I am so grateful for that and so thrilled at how much she remembers.

After Big Lots, we drove back toward downtown OKC to stop at Pam’s garden stand near the historic Farmer’s Market. The day was warm and sunny, and the spring winds were combing across row after row of intensely colored petunias, marigolds, begonias, coleus, impatiens, and much more. Ruffles of life and happy energy. We were in heaven. She explored the aisles completely in obedience to her instincts, touching everything gently, marveling at the variety. I could not take my eyes off of her tall, graceful frame. Not very long ago she and her sister were so small they would run between the rows and disappear into the ocean of color, shining brown hair bobbing up and down.

When we reached the building at the furthest corner of the city block, we found the greenhouse filled with vegetable seedlings. Humid and intimate, undecorated, weeds rampant on the edges of the gravel floor which is bordered with railroad timbers and concrete blocks, you step into a space like that and know that something primal and true is happening. The wind whipped hard at the plastic roof, over and over again, and it made my heart race. The plainest of plain handwritten labels, the strongest looking plants. Simplest pricing, almost like the exchange of money is a formality.

I enjoyed an intense memory of the vegetables my Grandpa used to start from seed and the plastic knives he used as labels, each little plant identified in his beautiful slanted handwriting, black magic marker always. “Celebrity,” “Early Girl,” “Beefsteak,” “Best Boy.” I selected one of each of Grandpa’s favorite tomatoes for her, and we found a few new ones too. “Super Fantastic” got a long, good laugh from us both! She was especially happy to scoop up yellow squash babies and cantaloupe vines. Bell peppers, a basil plant, and more. So much fun, this miniature safari expedition to start her very first garden at her very first place.

We paid for our bounty and listened to the growing advice offered for free by the proprietor. Promised to return soon and in the meantime to mound up the soil on that blackberry vine so its feet never stay too wet.

Back at her place, I was amazed again at how much gardening technique Jess remembered from childhood. She used to help me outside all the time, and the familiarity was deeply comforting. She’s an enthusiastic learner, too, so the information that happened to be new fell on eager ears. 

We took turns digging the virgin earth and clearing away dry leaves. (I should have brought more tools.) Fortunately, the little garden space next to her little patio was pretty good soil already, just a bit compacted and dotted with a few bricks which we unearthed easily. It was also laced with ivy roots from the adjacent yards. Clearing all of that was a good little exertion on a humid day, and I loved watching her concentrate on the space.

When it was finally time to arrange her tomatoes and peppers and plan the cantaloupe spots, this girl was downright giddy.

I can relate.

There’s so much more to tell, but let me end by saying proudly that she did such a great job on the first day of work and her garden will grow very well under her care. She already texted me this morning asking how I thought the overnights storms will have affected everything.

Veggie Growing Advice from Grandpa Stubbs

Since lately I can scarcely smell a tomato leaf or crush a spent marigold without thinking of Grandpa Stubbs, I hope you’ll indulge me by considering some practical advice from the best gardener I have ever known. And a very special thank you to my girl for listening to so many Grandpa stories yesterday. Telling those stories is how he lives on, and I know he would be thrilled to see his great-granddaughter keeping his old techniques.  

Tomatoes:

  • Strip the bottom one or two sets of leaves from the stem and toss those inside your planting hole for good luck. Where you removed leaves and created a small wound, the stem will grow new roots.
  • Lean your tomato to the side and place it almost horizontally into the hole, gently guiding the top of the plant skyward. You’ll be amazed at how readily the plant finds its way. Just be gentle, taking care not to break its neck. Firmly pat all the soil back around the tomato plant and press it well. Water deeply.
  • As the tomato grows, keep it groomed by removing not only yellow leaves but also any shoots that appear at the “Y” intersections. This is what thumbnails are for. If you’re feeling really thrifty and ambitious, you can root those suckers in a glass of water and soon have a brand new seedling to grow outdoors.
  • Coffe grounds and crushed eggshells are good additions for the base of your tomato plants.
  • Consider interplanting tomatoes with marigolds, nasturtiums, and basil. Grandpa once told me this was actually just for looks, a false old wives’ tale, not insect prevention as people claim. Then he exploded into that deep, loud, vibrant, chuckling belly laugh of his, and he called me “Mareezee,” and I wasn’t sure which was the joke, ha! I’m still not sure! But I always plant these with my tomatoes no matter what, and for every possible reason, just in case, and just because he did. And I suggest you do the same.

Cantaloupe:

  • In Oklahoma, this fruit grows well both from seed and as a seedling you buy at the garden center. Do it! It’s cheap and fun!
  • Grandpa trained his up and along a chainlink fence, maybe to disguise the eyesore in his yard, and it worked great. So he taught me to do this and I recommended to Jess that she take advantage of her chainlink wall and place her melon vines there. It’s strong and perfect. 
  • Once the vines grow (don’t worry, they will) and fruit appears and gets heavy (it definitely will as long as you water it a lot), use old nylon pantyhose as miniature hammocks to suspend the melons and take the weight off the vine. Repurposing. Jess was all about this idea!

Vegetable Seeds in General:

  • Most seeds want to be planted at a depth similar to their own size. So, sunflower seeds need a centimeter or so of dirt for a good burial. Radish and lettuce seeds, which are not much coarser than salt, need to be only scratched into the surface of your garden. Pat-pat-pat. 
  • Plant wide-row beds of lettuce, for sure, but also use that real estate below and between your bigger plants for spreading extra lettuce seeds, etc. Leafies make an excellent (and edible!) ground cover. Weed prevention and food at the same time, for almost no money.
  • Radish seeds, by the way, can be interplanted with all of your leafy greens. They will not only grow more quickly, which is exciting; but by harvesting the big ones throughout your salad garden months, the vacancies they leave behind will provide a little aeration.
  • Thin your radishes. You will almost inevitably plant them too thickly, so be ruthless in thinning them. Otherwise, none will have enough elbow room to mature. You can add the threadlike castoffs to your compost or eat them if you are cool like Grandpa and me.
  • Lettuce, kale, spinach, and more can stay in your garden almost all year if you trim the food with scissors instead of pulling the plants up. They grow over and over. “Cut and come again” is what they call it.
  • Water the seedbeds more than you think they need it, especially in the beginning, and especially as the plants get lush and summer heats up.
  • Don’t be afraid to try a small garden here or there in odd locations. Especially if you have access to magical compost! You might be surprised at what will grow in shade or in sand or in something else crazy. Seeds are not expensive and are a fun way to experiment with growing conditions, design, and more.
  • Have fun!! Laugh hard about it all. Spend time out there, just looking at it. Grandpa called this, “piddling around.” 

Those radishes got harvested today. Gorgeous!! Delicious!!

Friends, I will end there. My heart is full. I thank you for your love and hope you feel mine. Check in tomorrow for stories about Klaus and Lincoln! The brothers’ slumber party week continues.

“The best fertilizer is the gardener’s shadow.”
“Count it all Joy.”
XOXOXOXO

stormy skies & a calm heart

This morning Handsome took Klaus and Lincoln outside a little ahead of me, knowing I had slept roughly or not quite enough. More heavy dreaming. When I eventually joined them on the south lawn with two cups of Perfect Coffee, the dogs rewarded me with much bouncing and circle running and more of those snoot-to-tail grins. I sat on the steps of the hot tub while my guy soaked in the chlorine-scented water. We drank coffee and played with the brothers. My heart relaxed and I stretched my bare legs in the fresh air.

The winds were calmer than yesterday’s, but the skies dark blue and thick grey, clouds low and heavy. We could smell the damp earth and promised storms.

Radishes are fully grown and popping out of the dirt. Romaine lettuces taking shape slowly, Hail Caesar. Kale rough and bumpy, deeply hued. Vines of squash and blackberry in different raised beds now boast those first tight buds that will become blossoms that will become fruit. Even the small Three Sisters bed is suddenly dotted with sprouts of corn, green beans, and squash.

Oklahoma had a slow start to springtime. We all analyzed the weather together every day, nervously. We traded coats for jackets and jackets for shorts and then scrambled for coats again. We planted our gardens and protected them from frost. We lost a few things and mourned them. Planted more things, grew seeds in the safety and secrecy of warm garages with artificial light. Many days even I felt the optimism was too forced. How many times did I insist, “This is it, it’s here now, we can relax!”

But it really is here now, this fresh new springtime, this burst of life for which we have all been yearning. And already it’s almost summer.

That’s Oklahoma.

And that’s life.

Everything stays the same and we suffer through and hang on and encourage each other, believing ahead of time that things will change, that the Hard Stuff will get easier or lift away completely. We do everything we can to pave the way for miracles, celebrating ahead of time. Or we focus on getting stronger, on improving our coping skills and defenses against the elements.

But the Hard Stuff persists. None of it is on our schedule, no matter how we think things ought to be. We can rail against it all we want, these maddening delays and painful losses, but that only makes us angry and bitter.

And then one day it just happens. Life springs forth and all the seeds we have been planting grow into treasures more beautiful than we had dared hope. Some of the perennials, the life ornaments which we have learned to trust and treasure, unfurl and bloom more lushly than before. Still here with us. Just waiting for the right day. We have no control.

Thank you for reading, friends! Time for me to wrap up some morning chores and housework so I can get my miles in and scoot to the city for a day of gardening with my youngest.

You may already understand what a miracle this is in my life, if you know our family’s story. This time last year I was still protecting this particular hope secretly, in the safety of private prayer and hope and what some would call artificial growing conditions. Waiting, believing, despite the weather reports. The miracle was not on my schedule, but it was certainly worth waiting for. And now it is unfurling and blooming more lushly than ever.

I believe the same will prove true for much more in all our lives.

I wish you all the best as your springtime takes hold. I wish you the best warmth and nourishment, the best resilience, the best blooms and fruits after so many long winters. 

“You may encounter many defeats,
but you must not be defeated.
In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats,
so you can know who you are,
what you can rise from,
how you can still come out of it.”
~Maya Angelou
XOXOXOXO