Lazy W Marie

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

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a much happier storm season blowing through us

When the farm has just emptied of kids, evidence is plenty. The deck, pool, and surrounding lawns are all festooned with brightly colored plastics: Water guns and leaky swim masks, half-inflated floats, sun-crunchy pirate beach towels, and orphaned flip flops and hair ties. They are all scattered like confetti across the calm, green expanse. We discover an empty juice box here and there, a chewed-to-nothing melon rind, a discarded (hopefully used up) bottle of sunblock.

The chairs and chaise lounges are all askew, abandoned and resting happily like exhausted chaperones after a late night middle school dance.

When we bought these nine acres in 2007, our dream and vision was to give our girls, then 10 and 12, a second half of childhood, a healthy, wholesome coming of age with lots of space for deep breathing and long-leg stretching, animals to love and learn from, and much more.

The seeds of that vision had barely germinated when some destructive life storms blew through our family and changed everything for a season. We hung on, everyone survived, and eventually the sun came out again, brighter than ever. But that’s another story for another day.

Now I sit outside soaking up the cheerful debris of a happier storm, one of so many like it, each one important. “Cousin-Palooza 2017” came and went in a flash, leaving in its wake all this color and all these good vibrations. I sit here taking note of how much love and joy have actually grown here in the midst of that other storm.

Despite it? Or because of it?

For all the years that storm took from our family, has it actually nourished our foundation?

I think so.

I think, I feel in my bones, that the culling and strengthening and the deep watering from both tears and sweat have all contributed to an ongoing beautification. Not just a bigger deck or prettier gardens, not just faster internet, better food and more artwork on the walls- although yes to all of that!

But really, more trusting hearts for my husband and me. Freer minds. Effervescent joy that is actually pretty difficult to flatten.

We are blessed beyond reason. Thankful for adult siblings who trust us with their children so we can share these nine acres in some of the ways we always imagined. Happy to cultivate memories and bonds with our nieces and nephews that, despite inevitable storms headed our way in the future (that’s just how life goes), will last a lifetime and anchor us all.

Chloe, Kenzie, & Greg. July 2017 xoxo
Daybreak in Fort City, upstairs in the Apartment. They slept hard for almost 7 hours then sprang awake at full power, ready for chocolate chip pancakes and more fun.
Little fishes doing tricks all day long.

I always resist the hurry to clean up after a party. I am in no hurry to see it all wiped away, all the colorful debris that kids especially leave behind.

Except that other good stuff is on its way, and we need to make room. Every day, every moment, holds a new promise and a host of surprises. The whole big, beautiful, equally colorful future is about to happen.

I’m ready.

XOXOXOXO

 

friday 5 at the farm: feel good meals this week

Happy Friday!! Lots to celebrate over here. Lots of good stuff to press again into our flesh so it becomes more a part of us. 

 

Yesterday I got to nourish my soul as much as my body by gobbling up two hours of top-shelf conversation with my cousin Jen. Actually our moms are cousins. More importantly, we are friends and have been since we were little girls.

 

Jen and me at Roman Nose state park, circa the 80’s. Climbing rocks in flip flops? Since this is a food post, I will tell you that I clearly remember eating cottage cheese with pineapple that day, on a bed of lettuce. We also roasted hot dogs.

I am always so grateful to grab time with this woman. She lives in Colorado now, not far from Jocelyn. Needless to say, we have some fun activities planned for my next drive up.

I love you Jen!! Thanks for sharing your heart and your cake. 

 

 

Real quick, five meals that made me feel great this past week. 

I do not “meal-prep” in the traditional hashtag sense of the word, though I admire those of you who do. How fun to see what other people eat, especially folks with similar goals and lifestyles. For us, I just plan loose menus aiming for as many vegetables as I can find, some lean-ish protein, eggs, fruits, good grains and cereals, and, okay, copious amounts of caffeine. Also popcorn.

Close observers might notice a conspicuous absence of tortilla chips these days. Just an experiment to see I die from not eating them?

When I hydrate completely and nourish myself with just a little intention, I always feel better. Happier, more energetic, stronger for good consecutive days of running and farm chores, sleepier at night, comfier with life in general.

Handsome feels better with good habits, too. He and I eat the same more than our friends might believe. I might eat slightly bigger salads than he does, and he might like potatoes more than I do, but otherwise? Like 67.814% the same.

Onward!

 

1. Apple Oats & Strong Coffee with Full Fat Half and Half, no sugar: I ate this late Tuesday morning after running nine miles, six with my friend Sheila and three solo. I was cold, wet, happy, and pleasantly depleted. I got home and craved something sweet. Normally I put runny eggs in my plain oats, but this day a Granny Smith apple was perfect. Loads of cinnamon. I was at max energy for hours. And behold the extreme volume of froth on that coffee, thanks to my $1.79 IKEA gadget. Obsessed. 335 calories, 68 carbs, 3 fat, 12 protein.

 

2. Roasted Broccoli with Quinoa, Lean Ground Beef, & a Parsley Mountain: A few cups of broccoli thawed and roasted, a nice sized patty of lean ground beef, and a hefty scoop of quinoa-wild rice mix. I smothered all of it with fresh parsley and added mustard instead of salad dressing. I was so full and content. 537 calories, 15 fat, 55 carbs, 53 protein.

3. The Egghead at Red Cup: Thursday was lunch with Jen. We met in OKC at the Red Cup, an adorable, artsy coffee shop that has evolved nicely over the last couple of decades. First I ate this picturesque sandwich you see here, and washed it down with some pretty decent French Press coffee. The bread was marbled rye, and the good stuff inside was a fluffy egg or two, avocado slices, some salad type things, and maybe a smear of hummus? Delicious. No exact nutrition data to share, but I felt great after eating it and had energy all afternoon. See below for our dessert…

4. Vegan Peach Cake: Jen and I nibbled together on this cold, fluffy, nutty, fruity mound of indulgence in between updating each other on our lives lately, our hearts’ desires, and what books we both have read. We made this cake last a long while, man! And by the end of our two-hour lunch, still half of it remained on the plate. Not because it wasn’t good, because it was. It was just so dense. And we were both already so full from our actual food! Yum. 

5. Green Salad with Broccoli Slaw & Sirloin: Have you ever tried a baggie of that raw broccoli slaw from the produce department? I grabbed one a few days ago for a great price and have to admit, I love the convenience. I recently saw the idea of using these tiny veggies slivers in a stir fry, which I will eventually do. So far, on a “big salad” night I just added about half a cup of it, plain and raw, to a bed of chopped romaine and tomato, topped it with several ounces of petit sirloin and some vinaigrette, and called it a huge win. I ate a big handful of “air-fryer” russet potato fries afterwards, too. Yum. 464 calories, 38 carbs, 15 fat, 42 protein. 

Food regrets this week? Nope. We were well fed and happy every day, for which I am grateful. I feel super fortunate.

Wednesday night we ate that slightly famous homemade Chick-Fil-A pan-fried “pickle chicken,” this time on toasted hamburger buns, and I added cheese and peppers to mine. This dish did not make my top 5, but it was really good. I call it an extra win because I relaxed enough to enjoy every bite despite not being able to run that day. Still, let’s not discuss nutrition on that. Thanks. : )

Let’s admire a llama instead.

Meh the llama wondering why I take so many pictures of him.
Meh returning to his lunch of dried pine needles.
Klaus pouncing like a kangaroo to interrupt the pine needle lunch, actually having underestimated Meh’s agility. Yet again. The fight was short and sweet.

Why is food so fun to talk about?

Time for my long run! And then one already nicely assembled weekend about to launch. Gotta go.

xoxoxoxo

“I knew it could be done!”

A story goes that he and his daughter-in-law, my Aunt Deni, went to the State Capitol for an afternoon of dancing. A Western Swing band was playing in the Rotunda, and they dressed for the occasion. She led him by following in reverse and counting out a smooth, circular waltz. This was some kind of very exact thrill for him, having been told be previous dance partners that waltzing would never work for country music. But they continued swirling and counting, keeping beat and broadening their smiles. “I knew it could be done!” he exclaimed. He was overjoyed by this simple breakthrough, this very real pleasure.

With my Mom, his youngest, and Miss Judy, his very sweet long time girlfriend.
With my Mom, his youngest, and Miss Judy, his very sweet long time girlfriend.

Once on an average visit to see my sweet Grandpa, at his last house before moving to assisted living. the first thing he said when I walked in the front door was, “Honey you have grown!” He exclaimed it, really. With a lot of emphasis. And friends, I was forty years old when this happened. I had not grown in 28 years, at least not vertically. Grandpa was always keeping track of how tall we were.

On this day we hugged tight then walked directly to the sun room in the back of his house, Here he kept a menagerie of tropical plants, art projects, hand-lettered signs of every variety, books, cards from loved ones, and very comfortable chairs for sitting. In the corner of the room was a heavy electric organ with a painted portrait of my Grandma perched on the music ledge. Nothing in there matched exactly, but everything together looked so perfect. The room made you want to sit and stay for hours, which he would tell you was exactly his plan every day.

We sat and watched through the expansive glass windows as dozens of different birds visited the seven or eight feeders he kept full of seed. Cannas grew in every tight little corner. Hot pink crepe myrtles. A new peach tree. Tomato plants, green beans, even corn… All wedged neatly in his postage stamp back yard, backed by a pristine white vinyl fence. In the middle of it all was a small garden shed painted the color of cannas leaves in fall. I remembered him planning this building addition several years before, explaining that he wanted to paint it this exact color so it would blend in with his favorite plants. And it did, perfectly. It wasn’t quite brown, not quite purple. But a wonderful muted bruise color, deep and alive looking.

With his great-grandson Greg.
With his great-grandson Greg, in that same sun room.

He always loved little girls and women wearing hats. He loved music and dancing and greatly preferred collegiate sports over professional. He gave himself Spanish lessons late in life to make the most of a road trip to Mexico with his best friend Roger. While there he hiked the Aztec ruins with Roger’s pregnant daughter. I would love to have heard his joy at seeing all that evidence of ancient history, right before his eyes.

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He served in the Navy at the end of World War II. He married his high school sweetheart, my beautiful Grandma, after wooing her with a Portuguese sonnet by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, which he claimed to have penned himself. She knew the poem already, and its true author, but preserved the moment by letting him keep the secret.

tall tomatoes july 2016

Grandpa Stubbs was an avid and self-taught home gardener, all my life growing the most delicious tomatoes, fragrant herbs (lemon balm and basil will always remind me of him) larkspur, and more. I can scarcely walk outside at the farm or think of one gardening task without hearing his voice. He taught me how to use grass clippings as compost, how to double dig a new vegetable bed to eliminate weeds and grassroots, and how to plant and prune tomatoes in a cool, weird way. If I ever asked him a gardening question (or any question, for that matter) to which he didn’t have an answer, his response was a swift and silly, “Well honey I just don’t want to tell you right now.”

gpas boots
These were his actual gardening boots which he gifted me the same autumn we bought this little acreage. He also gave me his tan quilted zip-up vest, which I always wear over a sweater on chilly days. It has pockets.

He and my grandmother raised their family of five, two girls and a son, in small town Oklahoma and then spent the oil-bust years in Oklahoma City. He was an avid salesman, providing to the buying market everything from bristle brushes to caskets, wholesale.

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Holding my baby sister, Viva Michelle.

When we were little and spending gobs of time at his and Grandma’s house, most evenings ended with an ice cream sundae, unless for some reason the day called for a tall glass of cold milk with saltine crackers crushed up in the bottom. If we could not quite finish our treat, he would cajole us onward, to take just a few more bites, “C’mon, be a sport. Be a sport.” And he would wiggle his substantial eyebrows at us.

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Grandpa Rex with four of his great-grandchildren. Jessica, baby Chloe, Jocelyn & Dante.

From when I was a little girl until very recently, any time I would walk into the room he would call me his pretty little granddaughter. To him (and to my Dad) I am “Ma-ree-zie.” And I always loved the way that made me feel.

Grandpa made friends easily and had no boundaries that I could ever detect. He had a deep, clear voice, warm and welcoming, energetic, not intimidating at all. He laughed hard from a place deep inside himself, somewhere strong and limitless. His smile was genuine and warm.

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Last summer and again at Christmas, every time Grandpa came to the farm and interacted with Klaus (my gigantic lap puppy) he laughed in that best Grandpa way. I loved every second. He also laughed this way watching Klaus and the great-grand kids play in the pond.

I always thought he was handsome whether clean-shaven or wearing a trim mustache or covered by a full beard and shoulder-length hair. In fact he is one of the few men who to me still looked gentlemanly groomed this way.

In my mind he is always wearing either a pair of pressed slacks and a high-sheen golf shirt or Bermuda shorts and a white tee, sweaty from working outside.

The sound of football on t.v. will always make me think of him, as will the smell of strong (pleasantly stale) coffee and tobacco. I cannot walk into a garden center and see onion sets or bagged flower bulbs, smell all the fertilizers and peat mixes, without thinking of him. Driving past the old Horn Seed on Northwest Expressway has for years made me cry, just from nostalgia.

Did you know that my Grandpa once played in a professional golf tournament?

Later in life but when he was still driving, Grandpa took great pleasure in scaring his passengers half to death. On more than one occasion, after making a risky left turn against traffic, he would grin and pat me on the shoulder, assuring me he wasn’t worried because had we collided with anyone, “It was on your side honey.” 

You know about Grandpa’s peanut butter cookies, right?

pb cookies bowl unmixed

This recipe is one of my most favorite treats to make for people. Lots of love is stirred into it, because it was by sharing this with me over the phone that Grandpa made sure I had enough groceries when I was a young mom. (Side note worth mentioning: He was never convinced that I had installed my baby’s car seat correctly. I came by my worrying genes naturally.)

What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance.
They give unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life.
And, most importantly, cookies.
~Rudy Giuliani

He was a ravenous student of history, ancient history was his favorite I think. Or maybe it was WWII. He was unashamedly fascinated by mysteries like Stonehenge and Easter Island, loved the Northern Lights, and was the first person to spark in my mind the amazing truth that what we call “history” was actually not that long ago. He illustrated for me how recently, in fact, Abraham Lincoln walked the earth.

Grandpa seemed to understand how quickly time passes and how temporary everything is. Surely that is why he developed such an appetite for squeezing life out of his days.

At age 51, together with Grandma and my Dad, he started Village Art Lamp Company. They literally started assembling lamps and lamp shades on the floor of their living room floor, built up a unique inventory, and proceeded to sell to retail chains and hotels all over the state, eventually nationwide. He was stern about selling by consignment at first, and he was attentive to his lamps’ shelf placement. A natural salesman, Grandpa knew how to be seen and heard and how to get the same attention to his merchandise. That one chapter of his life illustrated my entire childhood and provided an excellent living for dozens of big families over the years. 

After a hard-earned retirement Grandpa delighted in announcing, each time as if the first, that he had the day off. When I was first a stay-at-home Mom, he would frequently drop in for coffee or call and invite me out, enjoying the joke together. I wish I still had a “day off” to enjoy with him.

He lived a life of variety, passion, joy, hard work, constant seeking, romance (definitely a ladies’ man), pleasure, overcoming of hardship, and genuine interest in things past, present, and future. He eschewed organized religion but made frequent, friendly mention of “The Man Upstairs.” 

gps chrismtas 2016 C

 

As our family has sat in vigil this past week, exchanging memories and simmering in love and grief, I marveled at how each of us clearly felt a unique bond to this man. Everyone told a story that no one had heard before, and I suspect I am not the only one who over the years felt a little extra special to him. That is just how he managed to love everyone, no matter how big the family grew.  He imparted great doses of himself to each of us in vivid ways. More family members are gathering in Oklahoma City tonight, and I am excited to hear even more. 

He has been the very best example of Carpe Diem to my life. And for that I will always be deeply grateful.

Friends and loved ones, I would appreciate it greatly if you knew Grandpa Stubbs, to leave us a memory here. Thank you so much, and thanks also for your condolences this week. He passed peacefully on March first, at the satisfied end of a life nearly ninety years long. 

“Well how do you like those apples?”
~Rex Stubbs
XOXOXOXO

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friday 5 at the farm: snapshots of this week

Hello, happy first Friday of the brand new year! This weekend on which we are about thrust ourselves is already much appreciated. And waking up to a thick, glittering snow quilt certainly makes the single digit temps more bearable. As soon as the sun comes up, Klaus and I will be outside, making tracks and checking on animals, breaking ice and having fun. Maybe we’ll see how adept his big paws are at building snow men? At least he should be able to swish a pretty great looking snow angel. If that happens, I’ll post it to Instagram for sure.

To kickoff Friday 5 at the Farm for 2016, here are five photos from this past week. They are just snapshots languishing on my cell phone but actually represent some great memories.

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#1. Engagement Party! A couple of months ago, our friends Tami and Jason flew to Italy for a romantic getaway. While there, Jason surprised Tami with a wedding proposal! They were in Venice, on a traditional gondola, and he was nervous and not even sure she’d say yes. They are madly in love of course, but marriage had not been on the table, so to say the least she really was shocked. I loved watching them as they recounted that memory. It is one of the best, most romantic stories I have ever heard, and it’s real.

Handsome and I were happy to attend their recent engagement party and are so happy for them! This photo is blurry, but can you see the giant decorative “diamond rings” hanging from the light fixture? The party was a lot of fun, the hostess so sweet and gracious. We met lots of new friends and had a great time. Nothing quite like marinating in an atmosphere of love and romance.

I do sort of regret not eating one of these magical looking cupcakes.

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#2. A Man & his Dog & my Lost Redbud The photo below is my strong, hard-working guy and his faithful assistant working at our bonfire pit. The tree stump there by the metal birdcage was a mostly rotted Redbud tree, which we chopped down and burned just as year changed. We made this task a bit ceremonious, which helped because I was sad to lose this beautiful thing. I love Redbuds in general (our state tree), but this particular one just kept hanging on, year after year. It was where I had hung that cotton wedding chandelier, it was an anchor for a string of twinkle lights, and even in its decline it bloomed profusely every spring. It was just special, and I was sad to see it go.

You might also like to know that anytime Handsome is working outside or (especially!) when he is using our black pickup truck, Klaus wants… no, NEEDS… to participate. This big dog knows the words “truck” and “chores” and has no fear as long as his Daddy is in the lead. It makes me deeply happy to watch them together.

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#3. Exhausted Lusty Pup Who Thinks He is Still Tiny Following our traditional first bonfire of the year with friends, Klaus was completely spent. Some of our friends had brought their dog to the party, a pup named Champ, and he and Klaus became fast friends, sort of. They spent several hours in feverish chasing and wrestling, nervous dominance/romantic attempts, and a pitiful, whining separation when the chaos became too much for us humans. Anyway. Late that evening after the farm was empty of beloved fire-watchers and marshmallow roasters, Klaus pinned me on this couch. He laid exactly on my shoulder and belly, stretched out along my legs, and passed out cold. He snored contentedly. I was helpless and in heaven.

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#4. Afternoon Sunlight Magic & the View from my Kitchen I adore this exact vantage, from which I see so many things I love, at this time of day especially. It’s right around the moments the sun begins to surrender, when it slants across from the south and hits a disco ball perched on our dining room table. Everything glows and sparkles for a little while. Klaus is usually asleep now, because he’s been playing so hard and doing his dog chores (very important stuff). I am showered (finally) and cooking dinner. Chances are good that my guy is about to text that he’s coming home. Afternoon is blending into evening at the farm, and when it’s too cold to walk outside and see the sunset, this is a beautiful consolation.

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#5. Greek Meal I Cannot Stop Craving. This past Monday evening after a surprisingly difficult and truly exhilarating aerial yoga class with friends, we all stopped at a nearby Greek restaurant for a nice, late supper. So European of us, right? I was quite hungry, having made a point to arrive at the “silks” on a perfectly empty stomach. You guys, this meal was amazing. I ordered it expecting that a traditional Greek garden salad (with olives, feta, cucumbers, etcetera) would be topped with grilled chicken strips. What a treat to instead see it crowned with this big scoop of saffron chicken salad! It also had some kind of tangy, creamy sauce I forgot to identify, and every detail of it was so good. The small, warm pita triangles and layer of fresh, cold tabbouleh. Yyeesss. More of this please. If I do sign up for weekly aerial yoga classes, this salad could make regular appearances in my life.

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Okay, thanks so much for touching base at the digital Lazy W! We are making slow but steady progress on new market gardening projects, so stay tuned for details on that. I am beyond excited.

A new Marathon Monday post is coming too, about the benefits of training for a race but not running it.

Happy, cozy, loving weekend to you! Enjoy the snow, Oklahoma! Carpe the diems.

“Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies.
And be it gash or gold it will not come 
Again in this identical disguise.”
~Gwendolyn Brooks
XOXOXOXO

what to talk about at the holidays

Happy Thanksgiving Eve, friends! Are you reading this only because you are taking a break between pie recipes and adding one more flavor to the turkey brine? Is your apron dusted with flour and are your fingers sticky from lemon juice and Karo syrup?

Is your home filled with travelers and kids out of school, or are you home from the office and soaking up the quiet? Uh oh, are you at the grocery store right now? I’ll light a candle for you. My favorite local spot this afternoon was a bustling, happy place; but I can only imagine things will deteriorate gradually hour by hour. Ha.

However you are spending this beautiful evening, I hope you are happy and feeling loved. Truly. I am thankful for you and have love to spare because it has been heaped upon me.

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Already late November. And in Oklahoma our weather only just cooled down, my chartreuse sweet potato vines only turned black two days ago, so the suddenness of the calendar is mixed with the weird anti-climax feeling like summer just ended, sort of, but also in a far away dream? Our autumns here are not like other autumns. They are elusive and indecisive.

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New topic. I need to prepare for something and hope you’ll join in, maybe help me:

Is it funny-not-funny to anyone else that we are thrust into the holiday season immediately following such a pivotal and hotly contested election season? LOL. I mean, I’m not really LOL-ing, but I’m trying.

And it is definitely not that I have any disdain for the holidays. I treasure each of them. It’s the election and all the fallout that have me wound up. And at the holidays we spend time with people we don’t see very often. People we love, of course, or else why would we gather? But the relatively (no pun intended) brief gatherings can be a bit risky. We don’t necessarily have that smooth, easy, conversational rhythm set in place, you know? There is often a little rust that needs kicking off. And Thanksgiving dinner is just the beginning of about seven weeks of celebrating.

Cut to the chase: Either people agree on hot topics and can openly discuss them in safety and commiseration; or people disagree and get into fights, clinging to beliefs over bonds. God forbid either of these happens when people are wildly inebriated. I get nervous just thinking about the fallout of a political “debate” rising up like black crude in the otherwise verdant wildflower meadow of a family gathering.

To further this ridiculous metaphor, I guess it could be true that political discussions are nourishing to our families, like oil to our modern society, but MY GOSH it scares me. I vote for the meadow, ok?

Here’s the opposite extreme: I also don’t want to waste our precious time with family and friends time skirting so delicately around key topics that we only manage small talk. That’s weak.

There has to be a safe, beautiful, fruitful middle ground. There’s an ocean between these two dangerous extremes, right? Can we swim there happily, exchange some ideas and make some memories without hurting each other? I sure hope so.

I would like to tell you how sorry I am for all these mixed metaphors but really tomorrow we will start mixing foods, so oh well. Ha.

Okay, here are some possible conversation alternatives:

  • Weather lately (easy)
  • Health issues (obvious)
  • What is the weirdest thing you saw on your travels to get there?
  • What food are you most excited about? Do you know the recipe’s origin story in our family? Which recipes do you have memorized from making so long?
  • Do you know anyone who skips the holidays or eschews tradition? (Our friend Maribeth serves her family steak on Thanksgiving and they love it! And I love her.)
  • The year is almost over. Tell each other all about how your 2016 goals and resolutions are going.
  • What plans do you already have for next year? What would you do if money were no object? What would you do if you could not spend any money?
  • What stands out for you this past year? What prayers were answered? What have you learned?
  • How would you improve the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade? Carte blanche!
  • Design a new reality show casting everyone sitting at your holiday dinner table. (WAIT nope, better scratch that idea, haha. Never mind on that one. Terrible terrible idea.)
  • What reality shows would you maybe be on?
  • Thinking of the Native Americans showing the Pilgrims how to grow crops in a new land, what culture around the world would you most like to learn from? And, if not turkey and mashed potatoes, what kind of feast would you like to explore?
  • What is your favorite Thanksgiving kids craft? What is the dumbest thing you’ve ever seen?
  • Talk about charity efforts or community events or light displays.
  • Debate Black Friday ethics.
  • Talk about football.
  • Books and movies, music specials, and where to hike.
  • Specifically Christmas movies! What are the best ones? What are the worst?
  • Favorite SNL cast member or skit?
  • Talk about how much we all love Russell Westbrook and Steven Adams.
  • See who has the best story to share about a holiday kitchen failure.
  • Debate whether to let your food touch or not.

It goes without saying that for these family gatherings especially, but always, our hearts should be firmly set on gratitude. Drop expectations of each other and look for the best to shine through. It usually does. Resist the urge to compare and fish for conflict or hurt feelings. Feed the common ground you have, and it will only grow stronger. Show appreciation for each other, memorize each other’s faces, be sure your voice spreads only Love.

(I am telling myself all of this stuff, ok?)

Happy Thanksgiving!! I hope your celebration is everything you and your people need it to be. Please let me know how you plan to navigate things.

My favorite SNL skit is where Paul Simon and Victoria Jackson
smelt Christmas gifts on a desert island.
And I have had so many prayers
answered this year it’s not even fair.
XOXOXOXO