Lazy W Marie

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

wedding vibrations on saturday morning

Friends, the wedding was so magical. I’ll write more about it later, but for now… You know how I love to wake up the morning after we’ve hosted a special event and feel how the farm has absorbed all that energy? Soak up the residual loving vibrations? Well, no surprise, a wedding leaves an exceptional loving vibration that I was very happy to soak up this morning.

Handsome and I woke up a bit sore and weary, but in the happiest way, you know? A truly pleasant exhaustion, the kind that can only come from having swam for a few days solid in a deep ocean of love and laughter. We slept until an unheard of 7:36 a.m. and looked outside to see lots of wedding and reception details still gracing the farm. I thought I’d share some photos form my walkabout and let you enjoy the echo with me.

In the dining room I found this basket filled with serving supplies and a bouquet of extra flowers someone gathered late last night.
In the dining room I found this basket filled with random but scrupulously cleaned serving supplies and a bouquet of extra flowers someone gathered late last night.
I love how the front yard looked and felt with this trio of white wedding tents. Filtered light, a focused place to gather, all super inviting.
I love how the front yard looked and felt with this trio of white wedding tents. Filtered light, a focused place to gather, all super inviting.

Taking the tents down this morning was much easier than putting them up yesterday. I am sure the gusting winds Friday brought had something to do with that, ha!
Taking the tents down this morning was much easier than putting them up yesterday. I am sure the gusting winds Friday brought had something to do with that, ha!

This big, beautiful pile of laundry is my collection of different white lace tablecloths. Each one is from someone different or from a special event. None of them match, but they worked great for the reception. And this iron bench, an anniversary gift from Handsome recently, happens to be where the bride and groom sat under the stars to open their gifts...xoxo
This big, beautiful pile of laundry is my collection of different white lace tablecloths. Each one is from someone different or from a special event. None of them match, but they worked great for the reception. And this iron bench, an anniversary gift from Handsome recently, happens to be where the bride and groom sat under the stars to open their gifts…xoxo
 

More colorful flowers! Last in the evening, someone gathered these all together with some coiled up extension cords, and I think they look great with my weird little turquoise utility cart and vintage rocker.
More colorful flowers! Late last night, someone gathered these all together with some coiled up extension cords, and I think they look great with my weird little turquoise utility cart and vintage rocker. I groove it.
This scrappy little hippified hula-hoop chandy was dancing gently in the morning sun. Still feeling the wedding music vibes.
This scrappy little hippified hula-hoop chandy was dancing gently in the morning sun. Still feeling the wedding music vibes.
Zeke kept cheerful vigil over the geese and chickens, who were not invited to the wedding because they poop too much and sometimes attack people. You can see, Zeke loves all the crepe paper as much as I do. Which is more than how much my husband does.
Zeke kept cheerful vigil over the geese and chickens, who were not invited to the wedding because they poop too much and sometimes attack people. You can see clearly that Zeke loves all the crepe paper streamers as much as I do. Which is more than how much my husband does.
The bridal swing and doilies tree turned out pretty fun. This morning the bachelors were all investigating it. But what really set it all off was a hanging lantern craft that Kate did herself. So pretty at night! I hope those photos turn out. And yes, I am leaving this all up exactly as it is.
The bridal swing and doilies tree turned out pretty fun. This morning the bachelors were all investigating it. But what really set it all off was a hanging lantern craft that Kate did herself. So pretty at night! I hope those photos turn out. And yes, I am leaving this all up exactly as it is.
The bride designed some white cotton swags with twinkle lights to dress up the barn. It was the intended pass-through for guests to make their way downhill to the ceremony. It turned out gorgeous! And although it's all dismantled now, I am already planning to put it back up soon. Really, really pretty, especially toward sunset.
The bride also designed some white cotton swags with twinkle lights to dress up the barn. It was the intended pass-through for guests to make their way downhill to the ceremony. It turned out gorgeous! And although it’s all dismantled now, I am already planning to put it back up soon. Really, really pretty, especially toward sunset.
"Wedding Meadow" was outstanding last night. Wildflowers, a decent amount of shade and breeze, deep green forest, and all the special personal touches the bride and groom put on everything. Just beautiful. Overnight, of course, the aisle paper curled up in the wind, but you can still see the archway and rose petals left behind. I can't wait to tell you more about the actual ceremony.
“Wedding Meadow” was outstanding last night. Wildflowers, a decent amount of shade and breeze, deep green forest, and all the special personal touches the bride and groom put on everything. Just beautiful. Overnight, of course, the aisle paper curled up in the wind, but you can still see the archway and rose petals left behind. I can’t wait to tell you more about the actual ceremony. Hint: Led Zeppelin and the Beatles.
Their unity sand table. The words of a ritual like this get me so hard. The request for all the parents to join together to support the new couple, to bind their energies and love as a new family. Just, wow. It got me last night hard...xoxo
Their unity sand table. The words of a ritual like this get me so hard. The request for all the parents to join together to support the new couple, to bind their energies and love as a new family. Just, wow. It got me last night so hard…xoxo
Most everything is packed up now, ready to head out and become part of the huge bank of happy memories we've all made.
Most everything is packed up now, ready to head out and become part of the huge bank of happy memories we’ve all made.

I cannot overstate how sweet and appreciative, how hard working and loving the bride and groom were throughout this process. And Handsome and I made a thousand fun memories with the parents, too! My husband and the bride’s Dad, Steve, are distant cousins but grew up together, so this was much more like a brothers-and-niece situation. I loved it. I loved every single minute, and I cannot believe it’s suddenly over.

More soon. Now, some rest.

Happy Labor Day weekend friends!
xoxoxoxo

 

 

 

 

friday 5 at the farm: short stories

#1. Around lunchtime on Thursday Klaus followed me to the front field, using his sharp puppy teeth to help carry the garden hose, which was already running cold and strong with crystalline well water. We were on a mission to rinse and refill the water trough there, but Chunk-Hi looked so baking hot and dry that our mission quickly changed. I called our sweet buff over to where we stood in the shade, and he mosied then posed for his hose down. His summertime bath. One of his favorite things in the world next to Oreo cookies and having his wooly fur peeled off his rib cage. Klaus watched with great curiosity, or maybe envy, because the pup too loves to be hosed down. As I sprayed first Chunk’s thick black mane and terrible, chipped horns, then his massive neck and shoulders, then his tall, serious backbone, his bath ran down in shiny rivulets looking more like Yoohoo chocolate drink than water. Red clay rinsed off his body and he shook, shook, shook, just like a puppy, until only silver beads remained caught in those dense front locks. I rinsed his split hooves and he turned so I could get his other broad side. He lifted his skinny tail and I sprayed him everywhere he asked me to. Meanwhile Klaus was belly down, long legs splayed out in all four directions of the map, surrendered to the cool dirt beneath that oak tree, our Talking Tree. Roosters chased hens somewhere behind us. A horse snuffled contentedly. And I was so happy to be home.

 

#2. These cookies make me unreasonably happy. They have so much strong bite for munchy, snack-craving teeth and they taste sweet and cinnamony, like apple pie, but they are pretty healthy. Made with largely wholesome ingredients and super filling. Okay, commercial is over. Go make them for yourself!

whole wheat-apple-oatmeal breakfast cookie
whole wheat-apple-oatmeal breakfast cookie

 

#3. Katelyn, Dillon, and I walked downhill toward Wedding Meadow. We were scouting a clearer vision for their ceremony. First our feet swished through the green clover of the middle field, then they crunched through the prairie grass out back. Clouds veiled the morning’s brutal sun and a very welcome cool breeze sliced across our path. The bride and groom chatted happily and measured one thing after another, their easy conversation bringing the natural landscape to life in my mind. Every tree shimmered green and lively into a mirage of white satin and floral drapes, twinkle lights and loving vows. Their date is just two months away, and we are so excited.

Wedding Meadows at sunset...xoxo
Wedding Meadow at sunset…xoxo

 

#4. Miss Red Dot has abandoned her maternal duties wholesale. A few days ago I placed her in the freshly cleaned Hatching Highrise with about two dozen uncollected eggs plus all the materials she would need to make a lovely little home for herself and her foster chicks (hay, grass, and fresh herbs). The first day she did fine. I found evidence of nesting and saw that she was eating scratch and drinking cold water normally. Then the next morning when I opened the front hatch to replace her water and add more grain, she flew out at me violently, in a big storm of wide-eyed panic. I looked at the eggs, scattered now, no longer in their grassy bowl of protection, and also saw that Red Dot had been busy peeling away the double-layer chicken wire we had stapled over one window. In addition to trying to remove it, she had also been trying to evacuate herself through one of those hexagon shapes, stretching and bending it, a feathered prisoner escaping from a tiny Alcatraz. A few of those hexagons were quite baggy already. That’s how you know a hen is unhappy: She risks strangulation trying to escape. Also? I had never before seen a hen successfully remove stapled-in wire mesh. She may not have natural brooding instincts, but she’s also no dummy.

 

#5. Friday morning. We tried to sleep late but Klaus thought that idea was silly. So before 5:30 a.m. on his day off, Handsome leads our little trio outside for Hot Tub Summit. Beach towels and perfect coffee in hand, last night’s moon still glowing blurry and mischievous through the last traces of storm clouds, we creep across the dewy south lawn and welcome the holiday weekend. Our feet leave pearly, lustrous tracks in the green carpet, and the sky is already changing from moody bruised colors to clearer ideas about pink and blue, more summertime cotton candy promises. That little elbow of woodsy garden near the hot tub is our own small Emerald Forest. Deep and dark, dramatic and cool almost any time of day, it boasts bigger leaves and stranger nuances of green than anywhere else on the farm. We brainstorm together about how to spend our day, and the birdsong as we chat is thrilling. Enthusiastic, already turned up to a high volume so that surely no one is sleeping late on this beautiful morning. I soak and smile and press into my heart the gratitude of the moment and also the gratitude of how many prayers have been answered lately. From family needs and relationship healing to professional and financial success, despite big obstacles, we are a very blessed couple and we know it. And the wonder of so much freedom and pleasure is a gift for which I am constantly thankful. We decide we are finished soaking, heated now down to the marrow of our bones, and my husband mock-scolds Klaus for relocating our flip-flops. The foot path home is still visible in the fluffy green, lit now by slanting light from the east. The roosters are awake. The day is ready for us. And we are ready for the day.

 

Happy Independence Day Weekend, friends!
Redeem your freedoms.
XOXOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm: parrot life

Bobby Pacino, our blue and gold macaw, will be ten years old this spring. He was hatched somewhere in the United States and sold to us at a pet store in Oklahoma City when he was just a pup. Err, baby? Kitten? Chick. When he was just a chick. A small, quiet one.

The first few days he was home with us were a lot like having a newborn infant, especially with regard to feeding and bonding. It was actually a very sweet time.

Then the next solid, unrelenting decade was a lot like having a dysfunctional toddler, especially with regard to, well, pretty much everything. A loud, messy, screaming, demanding, attention seeking, affectionate and VERY smart, un-CANNILY smart, but also disruptive and destructive, toddler. It’s been a whirlwind. A loving whirlwind.

Surely I’ve acquainted you with him here and there on this blog, right?  I know I post photos of him to Instagram from time to time. Visitors to the dirt-and-hooves Lazy W cannot miss him. Pacino demands to not only meet but interact with everyone who enters the house or the yard, if it’s pretty weather and he’s outside in his big cage. Lots of our friends have become close with Pacino. Some are afraid of him. Others delight in ruffling his feathers. You know who you are. Pacino is a farm-ily member, and he is here to stay.

Yesterday I was reminded in myriad ways how different daily life can be when you live with a mature parrot. And friends, I use the word mature so loosely here I probably shouldn’t use it at all. But he is more or less of age; his personality is well formed; and he is vibrantly healthy and has full command of all his parrot faculties. He is a full time kinda guy. The thing is, he has spring fever or cabin fever or both, and this week he’s been telling me so.

pac 1

pac 2

pac 3

pac 4

“Hi, Mama. Gimme gimmee Kiiiiissss.”

 

So this installment of Friday 5 at the Farm is a cautionary tale for anyone who sees a parrot and thinks, “Oh how beautiful! He is magnificent! I wish IIIIIIII had a parrot!” Buyer beware, okay?

Five Things You Can’t Do When You Live With a Parrot

1. Talk on the phone. Pacino cannot stand to bear witness to what he perceives as a one-sided conversation. If he hears me talking, he naturally assumes I am talking to him. We are most of the time alone at the house together, after all. And if that phone conversation is filled with laughter, well, all the better. He joins in merrily and competes not quietly. The more I try to assert myself the worse it gets, and it seems I will never learn. So I rarely talk on the phone at all. I’ll chat with my best friend and my sister in law, like maybe once a month. Otherwise it’s just easier to text, seriously. The talking is just not worth the noise and drama on this end.

2. Watch yoga videos. Pacino especially likes female voices, and since most yoga videos are hosted by women I think that’s why he gets so riled up. But I literally have to sneak off to the furthest reaches of this house and close every door between us and play the video at low volume if I want any chance of watching and stretching in peace. Otherwise he screams and cries and attempts to opera sing at max volume the entire time. He wants to know this pretty yogi so much!! Not very Zen, you know? It really messes with my chakras and whatnot.

3. Eat anything all by yourself, especially things wrapped in cellophane. This is completely our fault, of course, because we have conditioned Pacino to accept all sorts of treats from us. But he now fully expects to share in any and all food that comes out of the kitchen, and it’s a problem.

4. Sweep the floor. This is ironic because Pacino’s indoor perch and his seed-scattering habits are the main reason we have to sweep the floor so many times per day. But he hates it. A lot. And he lets us know.

5. Kiss your husband. Birds are among the most territorial creatures I have ever encountered, and that is saying plenty. This glossy little blue Casanova is as jealous and needy as they come, so if Handsome and I feel like smooching, we have to do so at a safe distance or just accept the screaming and violent beak lunging that will inevitably follow.

********************

There. If you can cope with these five lifestyle changes then you are one half step closer to maybe considering you might possibly be ready for parrot ownership.

And let’s clear that up while we’re at it, too: You don’t own your parrot. Your parrot owns YOU. That’s the way it works, man. No getting out of that. But if you love each other it’s totally worth it.

Happy Friday!! I am signing off to go grab my first 18 mile run of this season. Very excited. See you soon for talk of translating literature and pregnancy metaphors and freezer cooking ideas. Have the best Friday ever, ok?

“Hi! Are ya Happy?”
~Bobby Pacino
xoxoxoxo

farm update: january’s breath of summer

It’s Wednesday afternoon, and my biggest work is done, miles ran, house clean and quiet except for normal Lazy W sounds. Schedule clear until dinner with friends tonight. I am forcing myself to sit down with a salty snack and cold drink, just to offer a quick farm update and return some emails. Because really, I’d much rather chat with you outside. So would you if you were here.

The weather here in Oklahoma, in case you haven’t heard, is temporarily glorious. So glorious it makes being indoors a little difficult. I get antsy. Warm afternoons, cool evenings, starry nights, and abundant sunshine day after day. The fresh air is intoxicating, so our windows are all open. Curtains billowing inward like a dream then sucking back against the screens with no warning. Rooster crows and buffalo chuffs making the silence fuller, warmer. Sunlight streaming in and colliding with the disco ball, scattering silver blurs all over the living room. I love all of this. It’s like magic, this symphony of beauty for every sense. Every spring I remember just in the nick of time why we live here, just when I was about to start packing boxes and move either to the Equator or the city.

The animals are blissing out, too. Egg production is up from six or seven per day to nine and sometimes even eleven. And we’re getting minty green ones still, which are my favorite. There’s a lot of, um… chicken romance happening all over the farm, so if things go well our little flock could make it possible for us to hatch out some gorgeous feathery babies again this year. We have a greater variety of breeds now, too, so this could be fun.

The llamas have rearranged their pecking order since Dulcinea has recovered from her pregnancy. Interestingly, while she was El Preggo, she was very clearly at the top of that adorable little totem pole. Then came Romulus, then Meh, oblivious to being in last place. (Llamas seem to be matriarchal, which could be why an expectant mother rose to the top despite her youth. This is my unprofessional observation-based opinion.) Now recently, Dulcie has fallen to the bottom, with her baby brother above her and Big Daddy Rom up top. “Where obviously I belong,” he seems to say with his stately gaze. Anyway, she’s doing great. The fall from grace has actually made her more cuddly to us, so we like it. Handsome really seems to be enjoying his extra cookie time with the llama he has always called Little Bit. xoxoxo

Yesterday we were pulling up the driveway at a particularly warm, still moment and saw Chanta napping in the sun. He was all folded up against himself, basking, no halter on his face, breathing with his entire body. The sight was beyond precious. I snapped these photos showing his startled wake-up. The fourth photo, had I managed to take it, would have been him stretching his legs and neck as far as they would go. And yawning. He is the yawniest horse I have ever seen.

chanta 1

chanta 2

chanta 3

Tulips are breaking ground. This is said with a great measure of self control, because as soon as anything breaks ground, I can think of little else besides gardening. This, together with the insanely gorgeous temperatures, makes it difficult to remember we are still finishing up January. About 50 days still to live fully until the official start of the loveliest of all seasons.

Live fully, Marie, live fully, Carpe every single diem.
Don’t waste too much time reflecting on the past or anticipating the future.
Today is beautiful and important.

On that note, I’ll wrap this up and go scoop some manure for composting. I hope wherever you are that the weather is kind to you. I hope if you are still in winter’s bitter grip that you have lots of soup and fuzzy blankets nearby to warm your bones.

Count your blessings. Make the most of today. The days add up.

“A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself.”
~May Sarton
XOXOXO

 

new moon farm update: closing the ranks

I have been feeling extremely protective lately. More so than normal. Protective over my children, my husband, our home, our animals, my gardens (though they are dormant, they are beautiful and precious to me), my time, body, emotions, thoughts and opinions, you name it… I have for a week or so had this deep and powerful need to keep threats at bay and create space for everyone. It’s a thrumming momentum I feel. Not an absence of energy but a tide of it. And a strong tide at that. And it is kind of wearing me out.

Yesterday more than other days recently, I woke up feeling a bit prickly. You know, less open-armed and more closed off to the world. And that’s not really my personality. I feel this periodically, and over time I’ve learned to take this feeling seriously, to not brush it off and waste the brief season. I’ve learned that there is a beautiful purpose to this shift in my heart and body.

Well, in addition to actual life challenges, it turns out that Tuesday was also a New Moon. Funny, right? That means that for the previous two weeks our energies had been slowly draining and gradually approaching, basically, empty. It could have a lot to do with the worn out feeling.

It makes so much sense now. It’s like my soul knew before my mind realized it when to shed extra weight in my schedule and consciousness and sort of lower our family’s center of gravity. Focus. Breathe deeply. Create all that much-needed space.

So I am closing the ranks. This is not depression; it’s just a refocusing. I’m not going anywhere extraneous for a while. I am still running my miles and eating healthfully and showering every day and doing lots of housework and wearing bright colors to combat the late winter doldrums, but I am also saying no over and over again, to anything that is not serving us essentially. No volunteering, no driving across town for unpaid projects, no visiting with people who make me cry and confuse my heart. Right now I need to build up some strength and just breathe. Catch up on work around the farm, reset some projects and priorities. And really, this season of closed ranks won’t last long; I am pretty sensitive to the moon and will surely feel the swell of the waxing weeks just as strongly as I felt the waning.

********************

This wouldn’t be a Wednesday farm update without sharing some news.

First, Jocelyn has been visiting us still and spending lots of time training the horses. And training me with the horses, truth be told. Chanta and I daydream of so many magical horse-and-rider moments. He told me things are promising. I’ve only had one fall (off of Dusty, so it was a short trip), and it did not involve a visit to the dentist. Bonus! Joc and I are having so much fun and making a thousand happy memories together. I am in awe of the young woman she is becoming.

 

joc dusty

 

The hens are laying eggs consistently, including a minty green (maybe it’s actually blue) egg yesterday, the first one like this in over a year! So gorgeous. I love the colored shells so much.

 

Fancy Louise. World's most affectionate hen. xoxo
Fancy Louise. World’s most affectionate hen. xoxo

 

Chunk is still a tire flipper.

Pacino is still a wooden floor wanderer.

And little Meh has decided that sweet grain is totally delicious if he can no longer have his mama’s milk. So that is all really great.

On a sad note, the bees I found a few days ago appear to have been robber bees, not my beloved Lazy W Honeymakers as I had announced on Facebook. The hives are in fact depressingly empty except for a small cluster of dead bees, so I am frustrated beyond words. I’ve spent so much time, energy, and money on this beekeeping project that a second total loss is almost enough to make me throw in the towel. Many thanks to those of you who have already said sweet things about this bummer news, and thanks in advance to those of you who now will. I don’t yet know exactly what happened. But I will do as much reading and observing and asking around as necessary to figure it out.

 

lights

 

It’s fine, you know, to close the ranks when you need to. Tend your temple, feather your nest, look well to the ways of your own household first, especially when your emotional resources are limited. The energies will shift again and strength will build back up, then other kinds of work and pleasure will be on my mind.

How are you? Do you notice a shift in energies when the moon is waning?

“If you surrender to the wind, 
you can ride it.”
~Toni Morrison
XOXOXOXO