Lazy W Marie

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

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New Baby, New Bees

This past weekend was busy at the farm. Lots of planting, lots of tidying up of the  already flourishing edible gardens, lots of photo taking and chicken chasing. But two very exciting things happened that are totally news worthy.

Seraphine had her baby.

cria day three
This little guy was born mid-morning on Friday, May 30th. He is already running like the wind and nursing like a champ, and he is never short of kisses for Handsome and me. No name yet. But we’re definitely in love. xoxo

And I brought home two new hives of honeybees.

We had heavy rain at the farm all night and into the morning, sending the bees deep inside their boxes. I had a small panic attack thinking they had absconded on day three of living here. They're okay! Just staying warm and dry until the skies clear. If you look closely in the entrances you can see them churning about. Beautiful.
We had heavy rain at the farm all last night and into this morning, sending the bees deep inside their boxes. I had a small panic attack thinking they had absconded on day three of living here. They’re okay! Just staying warm and dry until the skies clear. If you look closely in the entrances you can see them churning about. Beautiful.

 

On Saturday evening Maribeth drove me to Noble, Oklahoma, where Brian and Marcy Royal run a wonderful little bee business from their home. We admired their peach trees (how could they not be well pollinated?), wished Brian well on their soon-to-be-born fourth baby, and put the two NUCs I had ordered into the back of Maribeth’s minivan, the one with the magic rear hatch. (When she’s not looking I play with it endlessly. You can close it without touching it, just using your mind powers.) We made a quick stop at her house for supplies I needed which of course she had, then drove the bees easily and without incident back to the Lazy W.

Once the two waxy cardboard boxes were settled onto their tabletop spots in my vegetable garden, we stood around in the purplish dusk eating sugar snap peas straight off the vine and accepting fuzzy kisses from the new cria (baby llama). I wondered that night, as I do so often, whether Maribeth knows how important a role she plays in our hobby farming adventures. I hope she does.

On Saturday night I went to bed a very happy beekeeper (but a very sad Thunder fan, because on that same evening my team lost their shot at the playoffs). My dreams ran thick with golden honey.

Early Sunday morning Handsome nudged me from sleep saying, “Hey are you gonna go feed your bees?” I sprang out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, donned my pink bee suit, and ran outside. Past the hungry cats, past the fattening eggplants and cantaloupes.I ran straight to the bees and fed one of the hives all the sugar-water I could offer them, which wasn’t much. We’ve been trying to eat less refined stuff here and so I just don’t keep sugar in the pantry anymore. Also, I wasn’t planning to feed the bees so early in the season but am happy that Maribeth urged me otherwise. Maybe keeping them overfed and happy will be a good buffer against the odds. Two years ago, remember, I just kind of crossed my fingers and walked away, until winter.

After church and a family lunch, we stopped for groceries. I bought five million pounds of granulated sugar. Home again, I mixed up some thick, yummy syrup and returned to the vegetable garden. It was easy to gently brush the bees away from the feeding holes to position the inverted buckets. The sweet stuff was dripping softly, and my heart was content. I looked around and knew that everything growing nearby would not only feed these amazing creatures; the bees would also pollinate these plants and help them thrive. In one lopsided rectangle of earth, symbiosis and poetry were reigning.

I thought of my Papa Nieberding.

Excerpt from my great-grandfather's apiary journal, these pages dated May 1980. I was in Kindergarten, and Oklahoma was in full bloom just like we are now, 34 years later.
Excerpt from my great-grandfather’s apiary journal, these pages dated May 1980. I was in Kindergarten, and Oklahoma was in full bloom just like we are now, 34 years later.

May 2- This was truly a lovely day. The temperature was in the high 70s- and the bees were carrying nectar in loads- Tonite there was an odor of ripening honey. I haven’t any idea what the source.
May 3- The willows are blooming and should bolster the brood rearing.

Well, it’s mid-morning now and I have a long list of wonderful stuff to get done here. I wish you well, friends, however you are spending your Monday. I wish you good, nourishing food. Memories that heal. Friends who help. I wish you goals worth pursuing and love that catches you well at the end of the day.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.” ~Starra Neely Blade
XOXOXOXO

A Photo and a Story

   One of Mama Kat’s brilliant writing prompts this week is perfect for me and my hectic but happy schedule. She suggests:

Open your picture folders, close your eyes 
and pick a random photo to share and write about.
   So what you see above is what I saw when I scanned to about the middle of 2013 and opened my eyes. What is your initial reaction?
   This pretty darn priceless photo was taken a couple of months ago at Handsome’s twentieth high school reunion. Those four very very cool and stylish people are Handsome and me (in black) with our super good and FUN and beloved friends J and M. 
   I love this photo. Not surprisingly because I love these people. But seriously. Those heads!
   The reunion venue was particularly unique, a weird and wonderful private residence in midtown Oklahoma City boasting more conversation starters than anyone has time in the day to fully enjoy. I mean, you guys, there was a mechanical horse there. The small, heavy, painted kind like what you once found at grocery store entrances. And yes, all the girls rode it. Gleefully.
   There were paintings and sculptures galore. There was furniture like what had to have been collected from a thousand interesting sources, not all at once purchased in a gallery store. There were cars in the loft style home. Real cars. Beautiful collector cars. There were suits of armor and artfully crafted bathrooms with vintage silk neckties on display.
   And then there were these huge, beautiful theater masks of the Snow White dwarves. They were mounted on this exposed brick wall with ***just enough*** space behind each for an adult to cram his or her adventure-seeking face up there and pose for photos. I mean. So much fun.
   That is pretty much the story behind this photo. We have a hundred more from that evening. It was a great time and a wonderful memory maker. We almost didn’t attend the reunion, but I am so happy we did. 
   As for tonight’s writing prompt,  I am just glad that this photo isn’t the one I randomly landed on:
   Awkward…
   Thanks for a fun prompt Mama Kat!
   

Hope Like Wildfire

   Hope has been sparking in my rib cage and in my bellybutton for months now, friends. I think you probably know that. And despite a few unfortunate days when I allowed Worry to enjoy some small, petty victories (remember my vision of the Worry Door? I didn’t see that because I wasn’t worrying.)… I have thankfully managed to protect that spark of hope and fan it into a flame. And that flame is taking off like wildfire all through me. It is heating me from the inside out, making external circumstances very nearly irrelevant to my joy. And this wildfire is lighting the way, too, helping me see through some inevitable darkness.

   Fire.

   It’s spreading.

   Maybe this is why our regular bonfires have been so special to me. Handsome and I really enjoy opening the farm for friends and loved ones, to light fallen trees in the fire pit and gather around and talk and laugh and have a good time.

   We soak up the heat on the coldest days and evenings and sometimes when it’s warm out, too.

   We loiter there at the rocky edge until the skin on our faces seems to shrink and our jeans are so hot we can barely sit down. We trade burdens and worries for ponytails filled with ashes and jackets that smell like wood smoke for the rest of the week. We stare into the red and yellow glow, side by side, rubbing our hands and snuggling and just enjoying every moment.

   We wait for the flames to jet ferociously out of the ends of hollow trunks, then we watch the tree bark turn scaly and black. We search for shapes in the changing fire the way children gaze at clouds on summery afternoons.

   Between jokes and ghost stories we sometimes fall into that  flame-licked trance that slows and strengthens your heart all at once. I love that hot, tympani beat. We move our chairs around the edge of the fire pit every few minutes, to avoid the smoke, and sometimes have to run away laughing because it’s so thick. But the cold always scoffs at our isolation, and we happily scuttle back for more fiery abuse.

   There is something undeniably primal about circling around a fire with people you love. I’m always a little sad when we can’t host a weekly bonfire for whatever reason, usually the Oklahoma wind, but the most important fire is still spreading in us. I feel it. I see evidence of it. And I am so thrilled to be learning how to protect it from whatever it is that wants us to live without the heat and the light.

   I believe you can celebrate answers even before they arrive, and that such a joyful anticipation feeds that fire. It quickens the answer, too, and makes it even more beautiful.

   Do you feel it too?

   Do you have a wildfire in your heart, threatening to overtake all of your fears and your pain? Let it. Surrender to it. Feed that fire and protect it.

   If you can, please join us for one of our Lazy W bonfires soon. If you can’t, then light a fire where you are and think fondly of us. I wish you and yours all the warmth and comfort, all the laughter, and all the hope you need. It is right there available to you.

“One can enjoy a wood fire worthily
only when he warms his thoughts by it
as well as his hands and feet.”
~Odell Shephard
xoxoxoxo

My Angels This Week

Family fun.
Holiday preparations and twinkling lights and hilarious adventures.
Romance.

Difficult times.
Fear.
Fighting.
Pain.
Tears.
Sleeplessness.

Laughter.
Work.
Sleep.
Illness.

Tragedy.
Shock.
Denial.
Deepening sadness.
Extreme sensitivity to everything. EVERYTHING.
Unrecognizable personalities.
Despair.

Reminders and truth.
Sense of purpose restored.

Fun excursions.
Distractions.
Words of encouragement from precious people.
Redemption of love and support.
Fresh air. In every possible way.

   Life this past week or so has been the most roller coaster-ish, melting pot-ish, concentrated human experience-ish as ever I think we have experienced here at the Lazy W. I have to acknowledge that much of our atmosphere has been sort of a manifestation of others’ pains, though, and our blessings are still innumerable. Mostly, we are so thankful to be still standing, still whole, still loved and loving at maximum capacity. Handsome and I are keenly aware of the very real loss nearby us, both around the nation and in our families, and so we have a hard time today complaining about anything.

For Handsome, Margi, Marci, and Halee

   I have a few precious friends who have made this week extraordinarily beautiful despite the dark hours. You are angels to me, even though it is not snowing here in Oklahoma quite yet. I love each of you so very much, and I hope you all find the angels you need in tough times, just like I have found you this week.

   Wishing everyone within earshot of this digital Lazy W a very happy, peaceful week preparing for Christmas. Enjoy the process. Be joyful. Water your roots deeply, focusing on love, not money. Treasure each other and make memories.

   Gotta go you guys. I have cookies to bake, sewing to finish, gifts to wrap, and a bed to make for a romantic mid week rendezvous… Merry Christmas!

“We are each of us angels with only one wing
and we can only fly by embracing one another.”
~Luciano de Crescenzo
xoxoxoxo