Lazy W Marie

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

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adieu to the queen of hearts

January 12, 2023

She was our brush with royalty.

((Little Lady Marigold, January, 2023))

She was diminutive, self assured and confident, fast as a cheetah, and studious. She was picky about who could touch her and gluttonous about food. I once couldn’t find her and thought she had liberated herself (again) from Retirement Village but found her buried, head first, inside her paddock’s enormous round bale of hay. She had burrowed into it by eating! She literally ate her way, all the way, to the center, and I just respect that so much. When she heard me calling, she casually backed out and popped her happy little head into the sunshine, all matted with hay, still chewing, and she looked at me. Nonplussed.

She hated being sheared but allowed it. Maybe she was smart enough to understand the relief that would come with a freshly shorn body, mid-summer. And her body was small! Startlingly petite without all that wool. She also hated fireworks but seemed to gather near to a bonfire.

She knew Klaus apart from all visiting dogs but still gave him a gentle little Stick Leg Treatment when he was being spicy. She knew to hide behind the legs of the tall bachelors, perhaps thinking her round little body was invisible, but most likely not caring, just calculating her next sprint around the back field.

Her name was Marigold because the day she came to live here, in June of 2020, was the first day that our French marigolds bloomed that year. Little Lady because, well because that’s what she was.

Her eyes were domed, always glassy and clear, with perfectly straight, slotted pupils. She had an honest, private gaze. She had hooves like little high heels and intense little legs. Solid black. And she chewed with a slight sideways grind that frequently made me hungry. After a long while and many pep talks, we got her to wear a little yellow halter, just to make capturing that much simpler, and I loved how it looked on her, with her floofy gray and white wool exploding in great clouds all around it. The day she got sick I removed her halter to make her as absolutely as comfortable as possible and it left a slight indentation in her face hairs. She let me massage it and sing Norwegian Wood.

She had triangle ears, soft and black and attentive to every sound. She was fond of sitting out in the sun or out in the moonglow, often staring downhill. She was impervious to snow. Her pasture mate, Romulus, is equally stout and contemplative, so they made a great match. The day she died, he watched over her and observed her removal solemnly. He lost all protectiveness. His guard had fully dropped.

*reigning queen of kicking rambunctious puppies*

Little Lady Marigold was a Suffolk sheep, a stunning fifteen years old this year. She was vivacious and low maintenance in all conditions. She ate well and drank well too, as evidenced by the little rainbow sheen her lanolin fleece left on the surface of her drinking water. We never knew her to be sick or even slow moving, not once, not until this week.

This Monday morning when LLM would normally be bleating and running left and right along the red steel gate for her breakfast happy to tell Romulus she was first today, she was downhill instead, and quiet. She was standing upright but would not come to me. I took a deep breath and said a prayer, heavy with that familiar sensation of this is bad. She let me approach and hold her but would not eat. Her breathing was a little challenged, a little shallow, and she just seemed… sad. She had lost all of her bounce. Gradually she walked around more, and I was too encouraged by that. She sought the sun on her face. She napped. She sipped water. And she hid herself away in her shelter.

The next two days were quiet for our regal little woman, and the gentle January weather was a blessing. It made it easier for me to make sure she was dry and softly bedded down, surrounded by eating and drinking options. I stayed with her most of those two days, only touching her when she said ok. My husband started her on a round of penicillin just in case she had a respiratory illness, but deep down we already felt she was just dying gently. Our friend and mentor, Maribeth, who was Marigold’s first farm mom, reminded me of LLM’s age and how very far past life expectancy she already was when she came to the Lazy W.

Early Wednesday morning, we discovered that Marigold had passed in her sleep. She was never in acute distress as far as we could tell, and she had curled herself up neatly, hopefully feeling safe and cozy and loved. Gosh she was loved. We wrapped her in two floral bedsheets and buried her gently, in that meadow behind the yurt. We gather there frequently to pray and be reflective, so she will be near lots of loving energy forever. I plan to grow a thick patch of French marigolds for her there, and BW has designated a gorgeous old tree stump as her grave marker.

Romulus and the other three bachelors watched from a distance, and Klaus stood with us. He got to say goodbye up close, and as he did so we gave thanks for Marigold teaching him how to gather and collect an animal safely. A shepherd, after all, he did this with her as needed, maybe a handful of times, and it was amazing. He was swift, gentle, and smart about it. She was an excellent teacher, and held a grudge of course, as was her right to do.

We already miss her so much. She was a singular presence here at the farm, a vibrant energy with an irreplaceable voice. If you have ever visited and heard Marigold “bleating” you know what I mean! It was a heavy handed, guttural sound that in no way matched her sweet appearance!

I would never have thought to myself, “You know what I want? An elderly Suffolk sheep!” But now I cannot imagine not having known her. Now, I see that she was gift, a beautiful, low, round, bossy, affectionate, introverted, brilliant little soul, and we will never forget her. I will also never stop giving thanks for her peaceful end, for the void of tragedy in her long, lovely life. She was a Lady, the Queen of Hearts.

If you grow some French marigolds this, year, please think of her.

“I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.”
xoxo

4 Comments
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: animals, farm life, grief, little lady marigold, loss, love, memories, sheep

i love people who… (january edition)

January 6, 2023

I love people who continue to wish each other “Happy New Year!” several days past the big party. Keep it going!

I also love people who greet you for the first time since December and say, “Feels like we haven’t seen each other since last year!”

I love people who allow a few sparkly holiday decorations to linger through January, because we often need a little boost as winter persists. That said, I respect people who clean and scour their homes as soon as possible.

((Jess on Christmas morning, 2022))

I love people who openly share their resolutions and their big, bold life plans. I also love people who choose theme words for the new year and tell the stories behind those.

I also love people who laughingly reject the idea of “new year, new me” and instead chip quietly away at their goals, building their lives slowly and behind the scenes.

I love people who, within five minutes of packing away the last of their Christmas details, begin flipping through the earliest arriving garden catalogs.

I don’t know much about football, but I love lots of people who do, and this seems to be a key time of year for them. I love their excitement and seriousness.

I love people who don’t like winter much, so they busy themselves making plans for when warmth returns. They comb the internet for local events in April and beyond, and they talk about plans for summer vacation to keep their mind afloat. These people need extra cuddles and warm treats right now, and I am here for it.

I love people who are very good at hibernation, people who embrace the season. They make it into an artform with layered beds and cozy living rooms, perfect lighting, maybe a fireplace blazing and a stack of great books or a queue of movies. They wear lots of soft clothes and eat comfort foods and let their cats and dogs join the cuddle. They keep the kitchen stocked with everyone’s favorite snacks and winter meals. I love people who love staying home.

I also love people who remain active outdoors despite the weather. Either for work or for play, they layer up and face the cold and the wind. They feed themselves extra nutrients like egg yolks and soups and dark leafy greens, and they know the cold is good for them and the morning sun is too, no matter how pale and distant it seems.

((January 2014 snowfall and cold sunshine at the farm.))

I love people who take extra measures to keep our homes and our vehicles safe and running smoothly throughout winter. They check the antifreeze and oil and tire pressure, they eliminate drafty spots and clean the vents and make sure vulnerable plumbing is always protected during bad storms. They trim tree branches away from power lines. They stack firewood and fill propane tanks and make sure the bills are paid.

((night snow, moonglow, & flashlight path))

I love people who know when the next wintertime full moon is and what its Native American legend teaches. I love people who follow the season with the animals’ behaviors and with the gardens’ changes and who can estimate the return of spring.

Mostly, I love people. I love all kinds of various people who see the day for what it is and why it is unusual and special. I love people who know that seasons shift constantly, a little at a time, then all at once, overnight. I love people who don’t wish anything away ahead of its appointed time. I love people who live fully even when things are not precisely as they would have them.

I love people, and I love YOU.

What kinds of January people do you love?

XOXOXOXO

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: carpe diem, choose joy, i love people who, wintertime

mid-December and definitely choosing JOY

December 16, 2022

Friends, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences with “toxic positivity.” Your comments on that blog entry and long exchanges on Facebook and Instagram have had my wheels turning all week. I am thankful to be surrounded by people who place a high value on authenticity as well as deliberate hopefulness, joyfulness, and faith.

((my first amaryllis are blooming!!))

The week before last week we were finishing up a fun little seasonal cold or flu or who knows what and scraped together enough energy to dive headfirst into Christmas. Our house had been decorated for a festive winter since right after Halloween, haha, including dried citrus garland everywhere, paperwhites potted up, and lots of plain evergreens with white lights; but as soon as the Thanksgiving feast was cleared away we surrendered it all to truly Christmas, and I have been adding fun stuff daily. Handsome surprised me one day while I was out running by adding the house lights and constructing our Santa sleigh, inflatables, you name it. Every year he does something new and festive, and I love it.

Christmas activities have kept us busy already, too.

Early in the month, with our friends Rex and Cathy, we tried a local fried chicken spot that was built in what used to be an actual feed store and lumber yard. In fact it was the first place we ever bought farm supplies when we moved here in 2007. After a delicious, greasy, filling meal the four of us watched the Harrah Christmas parade and let that really cement our holiday spirit. Then our three pups exchanged early gifts, ha! They are like children, no joke, ripping through wrapping paper and wrestling around the living room. Pure joy!

On a different morning, we took Klaus to our traditional Cowboy Christmas parade in Cowtown. We shivered and chattered our teeth and waved our cold, numb hands at all the heavily festooned float characters and “reindeer” horses, not to mention the state’s best Santa. Our friends from the Jedi OKC group had entered a float for the first time, and when everyone saw us they waved and screamed Klaus’ name, ha! So fun!

This past Sunday night we hosted a perfectly ridiculous Christmas party for friends, opting for a Griswold family vacation movie theme. Ha! I am married to the Clarkiest of Clark, after all. It was silly and lighthearted, a great release of tension for everyone in the midst of a busy season. Everyone brought delicious treats. We played a couple of dumb games. Old friends got caught up and new friends got acquainted. We even surprised the newlyweds in our friends’ group with a one month anniversary cake! They had eloped to Vegas exactly one month before the party, so it was perfect. High fives and big cheers for random, laughter filled parties that eschew tradition a little bit.

One weeknight after work we drove to Oklahoma City to hear Chloe, our oldest niece, play her violin. Her school orchestra has performed every December for several years, and it always sets the holiday tone for me. Our entire local family tries to attend all at once, and we take up a long row, usually right up front. I can hardly stand to think of one or two Christmases from now, when she will have graduated high school and there is no Christmas concert to enjoy. This year they were invited to play at the Oklahoma City University performing arts center, and they treated us to a nearly perfect rendition of Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Stunning! We all had chills. Great job as always, Chloe!

On another night, Cathy, Jessica and I piled into my car to drive to the Community College to watch our youngest niece Kenzie dance a hip hop version of the Nutcracker. If you ever have a chance to see this, friends, secure your tickets and do not look back. How awe-inspiring to watch these talented young people dance their hearts out! And the hip hop was a great twist on a classic story. We loved it. As a bonus, the night we attended was narrated in full Spanish. I am actively relearning Spanish for Jess and Alex, so that was a fun challenge to keep up with what was being said!

As I write this, most of our gifts are wrapped, leaving only the stockings to be stuffed with treasure, plus some baking and a few easy gatherings still to enjoy. I am luxuriating in the freedom to slow down on weeknights and make fun plans for us on weekends, to enjoy the holiday season for all it offers. The fast, the slow, the loud and glittering and the soft spoken and cozy. I am staying home as much as possible, taking time every day to stay centered on the Nativity and really sink into the cold and the dark when it comes. It’s all a gift. And the invitation to be still and accept the gift has never pulsed more vividly.

Do you feel Christmas miracles brewing in the distance? I really do. I feel lots of them building steam to get here at their appointed times, so much so that the traditional gifts and cookies and music are just set dressing. Beautiful decorations for our spirit, to invite us to Enjoy. Rejoice. Choose Joy.

All of this goodness, all of this Soul Cake, already in our bellies, and today is only December 16th. We have so much December still to feast on!

More soon. Till then, happy December! I hope your are celebrating and carpe-ing every single diem to your heart’s content. I hope you are clinging to the miracles you need and crave. Here are a few Advent posts from last year, if you need them:

Choosing HOPE as a strategy

LOVE Week

Another post about HOPE for Advent

XOXOXOXO

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Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: advent, carpe diem, christmas, cjoose joy, family, farm life, memories

checking in on a dewy morning (and my lesson on toxic positivity)

December 6, 2022

Hello friends, and happy December! How was your Thanksgiving? How is your holiday spirit in general? How is the weather where you living out your life story?

((still rewilding the front field…xoxo))

Here at the farm we are enjoying dark, dewy nature walks and dense fog advisories, plus the luscious promise of more rain soon. We hosted a small, magical family Thanksgiving here, and our holiday spirits are high. From our nieces’ high school orchestra concerts and dance recitals to silly parties with friends and lots of simple weekly gatherings, we have more seasonal thrills and pleasures than we can count. I hope you do, too. I also hope that on the days your calendar is less full, you breathe deeply and rest. Soak up the nutrients of all those traditions and activities.

Do you have a moment for me to share a little lesson I learned recently?

Last week I ran across a simple passage about the value of letting people feel however they feel. Often I rail against charges of “toxic positivity” because, in my own experience, I have suffered greatly and fought hard for my outlook on life, so I see with unshakable clarity the fundamental and life-changing value of hope and optimism. For anyone to call me toxic because of that has so far felt hurtful and, ironically, umm, toxic? haha… A simple reminder shifted my perspective even on this: Denying anyone the space to fully experience their emotions, whatever they are, dehumanizes them.

OUCH. I would never consciously dehumanize another person, not even in an effort to help them. This was such a valuable redirection for me. Since reading this, I have noticed something beautiful. I am giving fewer pep talks to rescue people from sadness or despair, and I am spending much more time in private prayer. I ask for more miracles on their behalf but offer fewer bright sides and silver linings to gaze at. (Maybe I just offer encouragement to keep going.)

Many of those prayers are already being answered, and I know more answers are coming. I get to witness my loved ones enjoying not only better circumstances but also better outlooks, all on their own, without me possibly annoying them (or dehumanizing them) with the spiritual cheerleader bit.

Privately, of course, I am still free to maintain my own outlook and convictions. All by myself I know that life is good, that counting joys produces miracles, and that believing in Love means things tend to work out in our favor.

fog, lazy w, oklahoma, faith

Choosing to step back and allow others to feel their emotions fully and experience their days and perspectives means I get to do the same, whether anyone agrees with me or not. Seeing this also showed me that all along I may have had a grain of loneliness in my pep talks, something in my heart that needed someone “out there” to agree with me that things were going to be ok, in order to fully believe so myself. I guess that’s human. But now, it feels incredible to pray and believe in impossible things all by myself, with just that intense, private assurance that God is listening and acting behind the scenes. He has been all along. He has been showing me new and amazing power in my life story, and He is doing the same for my loved ones. Why would I deny anyone that beautiful adventure?

Advent 2021 post about LOVE

Advent 2021 post about JOY

A 2018 post about fractals

A different mustard seed parable than we grew up hearing

Count it All Joy

Witness Me

I want to be an encouragement but not a stumbling block, as they say. If you need me to pray and agree with you about a miracle you need, speak up. If you want a specific encouragement, let me know. Otherwise I will just be here, quietly knowing that things are going to work out. Probably in ways you have yet to imagine.

“Faith is the bird that feels the light
and sings when the dawn is still dark.”
~Rabindranath Tagore
XOXOXOXO

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Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: advent, choose joy, encouragement, faith, love, miracles, toxic positivity

contradictions & harmony, freedom & chaos

November 17, 2022

A couple of weeks ago while driving north on our road, I saw something that sparked my imagination. That vibe has stayed with me all this time.

A twenty-something guy, short cut hair, a well groomed, conservative beard, wearing a preppy pastel shirt with worn out probably skinny jeans and definitely shiny loafers, no socks, was riding an enormous Harley Davidson motorcycle with a small, terrier-like dog cuddled snugly against his chest. The dog seemed to be secured in a baby sling or harness. The pair smiled gluttonously, without regard for bugs in their teeth. The sun was bright and warm that day, but the November ticker tape parade of red and yellow leaves also swirled. And, though dry, the sky also growled with concrete gray walls. Nothing matched exactly.

In that brief moment that this stranger and his deliriously happy passenger threaded through the four-way stop sign, I was struck by all the contradictions. All the contrasts. None of him was predictable or sensible, not in the conventional ways of style and category, but he was bursting with that in-the-moment kind of life pleasure. The natural scene itself was also such a wild mix of color and texture, temperature and emotion, I knew the seasons were trading for good. But it was all perfectly wonderful.

Then for the rest of the day my eyes were magnetized for more of this particular kind of beauty. Contrast, contradiction, unexpected pairings that produce harmony.

At the doctor’s office I saw a woman wearing pale, bejeweled sandals with dark green corduroy pants and a thick, braidy sweater. She was playing on her phone that was encased with a seashell motif. At the grocery store I saw an older gentleman carrying only a pair of apples and something small in a box. He was thin but with a pot belly, speed walking alertly, smiling, and yielded graciously to me as I pushed my cart of Thanksgiving feast supplies. His once red t-shirt had a faded message on it. His eye glasses looked inexpensive but were well polished. With all of this, we wore suit pants.

Back home, I keyed in on more brightly colored tree leaves and more of that gray but still illuminated sky. My garden, that day, still burst with pink flowers and yellow roses but also seemed frayed at the edges, the height of summer all exhausted and mellowing.

I searched my friends group in my mind and discovered people who fit no mold at all, lovely men and women who live life on their own terms, even if not always in such visible ways as the preppy on the Harley taking his tiny pup for a joy ride. I see them balancing intense, left brained careers with equally intense creative pursuits. They paint and make music and write spreadsheets and lead board meetings. My community is overflowing with contradictions, and I love it. All that happy, chaotic harmony. Every person, dancing to the beat of his or her own drum, is contributing to music that thrums and pulses and fills the air in beautiful, unorchestrated ways.

*long live disco balls & cactus*

I love to visit homes containing seven or eight or twenty styles of art. I love to sit at a table encircled by people of varying faiths and political leanings, speaking in as many accents or (better yet!) languages. I love fashion choices that are startling at first then deeply intriguing and flat out adorable. No fear. I love to grow my own garden with soft pinks, careless reds, and spicy oranges all near each other, ignoring traditional color wheels if the result is pleasing. This also applies to the scale of plants. If I like it, even if it is bizarre like Mexican petunia next to boxwood, I get to grow it. Because every day when I see that it makes me smile. I love tiny animals who are the boldest and beasty ones who are the gentlest.

*reigning queen of kicking rambunctious puppies*
*the fiercest gander who ever lived*
*the biggest, sweetest boy*

I love holidays jam packed with traditions from myriad backgrounds, every meal and every gathering heavily seasoned with personal meaning for somebody. No robotic habits here, but emotional connections that defy logic.

I love menus planned for pleasure, not adherence. And I love to serve canned cranberry jelly, still in the shape of its can please and thank you, in my fanciest cut glass antique dish. I love Christmas trees decorated for joy more than display. I love pajamas that are both sexy and comfortable, whenever possible, and family schedules with lots and lots of white space for filling (or not filling) as whims arise. I love it all, and I love it all at once too.

*my sibs are the most fun*
*make stuff for no reason*
*can’t buy what I want because it’s free*

The feeling and flavor that overwhelmed me that morning, seeing that complicated preppy-Harley guy and his free spirited, miniscule pup, reminded me of how beautifully complex the world is and how I really, really like it that way. If anyone is paying attention to your details, to the vibrations you are emitting to the Universe, I hope they are inspired by what they see. But more importantly, I hope you are participating in a collective kind of music that is real to you and feels good. Tune into what you want, what you like. Notice it whenever you can, and enjoy it, rejoice in it. Magnify it. It doesn’t have to match anyone else. In fact, the less you match the better. The resulting life gumbo is so good. We are invited to enjoy the freedom of choice and contradiction.

Then notice that this same invitation extends to the brackish water of your emotional, spiritual life. We are all, almost constantly, swimming in a terrifying mix of joy and grief and safety and suspense. All of it at once, together, rarely cordoned off. Noticing the cold water or the salty tears is necessary; but never despair and do not fear drowning. Notice, too, the warm water and the fresh water, and just swim and float. Trust that relief always comes.

How plain and unstimulating would a predictable scene be, and how flat would a life be without challenges and surprises.

May freedom and a touch of chaos reign.

XOXOXOXO

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: carpediem, choose joy, faith, thinky stuff. spirituality

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Hi! I'm Marie. Welcome to the Lazy W. xoxo

Hi! I’m Marie. This is the Lazy W.

A hobby farming, book reading, coffee drinking, romance having, miles running girl in Oklahoma. Soaking up the particular beauty of every day. Blogging on the side. Welcome to the Lazy W!

I Believe Strongly in the Power of Gratitude & Joy Seeking

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