Lazy W Marie

friday 5 at the farm: bison trivia

August 15, 2014

Hello friends! We’re winding down another work week, and to cap off all the chores and cooking and cleaning and gardening and errands and bee stings and intense office hours (not for me obviously) and general toil, how about a quick Friday Five?

It occurs to me that not all of you have visited the actual dirt-and-hooves Lazy W, so you don’t know all of our animals personally. Well, in the coming weeks I’m gonna try to fix that. They are each so lovable and interesting, and we have learned so much just by living with and caring for them.

One of the most unusual creatures here is a young male bison. His name is Chunk-Hi, and he pretty much has us wrapped around his little hooves. Here are five things you might not know about bison, as taught to us by Chunk.

Our beloved Chunk-hi, male bison, four years old in this photo. Gentle giant. xoxo

And yes, for the record, we usually call him a buffalo. It might not be scientifically correct, but we don’t get too worked up over that. We have more important things to fret over, like the cost of sugar for the welfare bees.

Okay.

Bison-buffalo facts:

#1. They start off as calves looking completely different! They are born with a gentle little hump, but still their body shape is much closer to a traditional cow compared to how they look as adults. And bison calves are a golden, caramelish, yummy bronze color, not dark and nearly black like they are later in life (thought that color scheme is also striking). I’ve always understood this coloring would help the babies stay concealed from predators in the golden prairie grasses that grow in this part of the country, their native land. Seems legit. Calves are woolly, curly, and 100% precious. Those eyes! They stay like this for several months, about as long as they nurse their mamas. In Chunk-hi’s case, it was about as long as we bottle fed him.

Jessica was almost 12 that summer and indispensable in helping me keep the bison calves full of milk! They learned to love the sight of the big plastic bottles and would suck on our hands for a long time after each feeding. Very sweet bonding time. — Jessica was almost 12 that summer and indispensable in helping me keep the bison calves full of milk! They learned to love the sight of the big plastic bottles and would suck on our hands for a long time after each feeding. Very sweet bonding experience.

#2. Buffs (see? I call them whatever I want) are skittish. Despite their enormous size and mass, despite how dangerous they can be, these animals have extremely fragile sensibilities. You can hurt their feelings by looking at them the wrong way, and especially young buffs will jump and bolt at a sudden noise. Our Chunk-hi has stiffened his nerves over time, but still it is not unusual to see him running for his life, high speed away from Mama Goose, who is basically a mean and bitter old woman. You can tell a buff is upset by watching his body langiuage. For example, and I do not know if this is true for regular cows, a tail raised stright up in the air is bad. Real bad. I call it the exclamation point tail, and it means he is on high alert, and you should be too. Just give him a cookie and stand your ground. Do not run. Walk slowly away, sideways if possible, without giving the appearance of retreat. Which brings me to my next point of bison trivia…

#3. They love cookies. I mean, LOVE them. We have an inside track to rejected Nabisco product, so every few months the farm is restocked with about a million packages of Oreos, Triscuits, graham crackers, you name it. Once upon a time I would eat a lot of that myself, but you know… Running. So now they all belong to our animals. Chunk’s favorite is probably Chips Ahoy, and I don’t blame him. Even slightly out-dated, those things are good. I’d pay big bucks to see him use his hooves to dunk a sleeve of cookies into a big bowl of milk. Visitors to the farm are usually game for feeding him sweet, crunchy treats, and they always get slobbered (bison are profuse slobberers) and sometimes gently bit.

Nabisco, if you are reading this, would you like to sponsor our farm? Our buff loves Chips Ahoy. So much.

#4. Bison also love to be loved. Like any creature, they need loads of affection and attention, and they also thrive on good philosophical conversation. Chunk loves to have his fuzzy, oblong ears stroked and scratched. He loves to have his eyes cupped and play gone-gone peekaboo. And he loves to press his massive forehead against the wire fencing so you can scratch him riiiiiight there, thank-you-very much. It helps that a bison will eat a big meal then go sit in a sandy wallow to digest it and perhaps chew some cud, because this is prime time to chill with him and just talk things over. Get it all out, you know? Catch up with each other. He is not in a hurry during cud time, and he appreciates you not being in a hurry, either. Sometimes he even lets you paint his horns fun colors.

Handsome was working in his car shop one winter afternoon when Chunk was probably three years old. The overhead door was open. Chunk snuck up him and was rewarded with colorful paint stripes. The look on his face. I cannot get ENOUGH of it!! xoxo

#5. American Buffalo are shed machines. Each winter they grow these thick, truly impressive, impenetrable manes and full body coats of water-resistant, woolly fur. It keeps them warm and indifferent to the ice storms and heavy rains. Chunk actually seems to enjoy snow. When he was a baby he would run and flip around in it just like a kid. But when the days warm up, of course, this incredible heavy garment is a problem. So starting in the springtime he begins to let loose the fluff and we find great big heaps of it all over the farm. He rubs against trees, fences, and horses, much to their chagrin. He lets me scrape him with a plastic garden rake. And it hangs in tightly woven, continuous sheets off of his barrel belly. Native American legends tell us that if a bison “gifts” you his fur, in other words, if he releases it to your hands easily when you have not sought after it, then he is lending you his magic. And buffalo magic is very special. I’ll write more about that another time.

Chunk-hi's first winter. He had just sprouted little tiny buffalo horn buds! When I first posted this photo to my private Facebook page, people didn't know what he was. Someone guess a groundhog. : )) — Chunk-hi’s first winter. He had just sprouted little tiny buffalo horn buds! When I first posted this photo to my private Facebook page, people didn’t know what he was. Someone guessed a groundhog. : ))

So there you have it! Five things you might not have known about bison-buffs. Do you know any fun trivia you’d like to share? Do you have any questions we can try to answer? Have you been to the W and taken photos with Chunk? If so I would be SO HAPPY if you posted those to this blog’s Facebook page. How fun. We love collecting happy memories.

Thanks for joining me today! I wish you a beautiful, restful weekend filled with exactly what you need.

Tune in next week for Marathon Monday stuff, an Alfredo recipe, a chicken photo shoot, and more.

“You can lead a buffalo anywhere he wants to go.”
~old adage we try to never forget
XOXOXOXO

fields of gold

August 13, 2014

This song Fields of Gold by Sting has always spoken to me. Tonight while walking backwards on my running trail I glimpsed the west field in a moment when the sun just sliced through the prairie grass and wildflowers and set everything in my heart on its side. Or back on its feet, perhaps. Memories, hopes, every aspect of love just pulsed. I just stood there letting it pulse, watching the west winds move.

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley?
We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold, we’ll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold

~Sting, 1993

how to cope with august in the garden

August 12, 2014

My gardens are suffering a bit, friends. They aren’t quite dead or beyond hope; but they are less vibrant and magical than they were just a couple of weeks ago. Maybe these charming summer months have spoiled me into what I thought was benign neglect but instead has been shameful laziness.

Or maybe August in Oklahoma is just always gonna be August in Oklahoma, no matter how charming the previous months and weeks have been.

The zucchini have largely surrendered to squash bugs, which exposes too much of the adjacent eggplants to the hot sun. The tomatoes can fight off only so many grasshoppers (and llamas) per day. The Three Sisters’ plot is crispy (totally my fault). The herb garden is at least one third stickers now. And my cantaloupes are half not quite ripe and half overripe, rotten. (She says scratching her head.) I’ve started new little areas of green beans, cucumbers, leafy things, and basil, and those sprouts are growing, but they need some TLC from Yours Truly, whereas their early season counterparts did not. And one of our three fruit trees has me concerned. I keep getting flashbacks of the Great Depression (even though I wasn’t alive then) when I see its sparse and curling leaves.

squash bugs... the bane of my garden existence... — squash bugs… the bane of my garden existence…

One of these years I will grow corn until people call me the jolly green giant like they did in sixth grade. Not that I was green, just tallish.

Fresh herbs are totally worth every garden chore you will do to maintain them.

Homegrown melons taste like a completely different fruit compared to what you buy at the store. Try it!

Blank spots in my raised beds are blank canvases. Room for improvement. And seeds are cheaper than paint!

I have to mention the stickers twice, the goat-heads, because they are just so vicious. I literally hate them with my entire heart and say swear words when I have to pull them. Last night I pulled a wheelbarrow full from all around the farm, but mostly from my gardens, and a wand of the nasty kernels attached themselves to my sundress. They were so stout, so terrible, that they pinned the cotton fabric tightly against my stomach, like I was some kind of a garden bulletin board. I was so mad! I mean seriously! I had to take several deep breaths and count to three then bravely rip the stickers out of my dress, so that it could become unpinned from my tummy; and still a barb remained in my skin there. It pierced a tiny little drop of blood for no good reason at all. This kind of stuff makes me a bit crazy. I feel like my personal space has been invaded.

Oh basil. I just can't quit you. Why have you abandoned me this year? — Oh basil. I just can’t quit you. Why have you abandoned me this year?

Always bury your spent jack o' lanterns and always scatter your watermelon seeds. You never know what gorgeous vines and fruit will grow from it! — Always bury your spent jack o’ lanterns and always scatter your watermelon seeds. You never know what gorgeous vines and fruit will grow from it!

So what to do this week? What are the garden tasks at hand?

Reduce I have started by doing some massive cleaning. Pulling weeds, pruning overgrown shrubs and criss-crossed limbs, and trimming leggy vines all the way from jasmine and morning glory to the darling tomatoes. I am reducing those by at least a third, maybe more. And scraping off brown leaves, too. I’ve always believed this allows the plant to spend its energy more wisely.

Water Deeply This may sound like a no-brainer, but keep in mind that all summer I have had to actively water our edible plantings maybe three times total. The rain has been so soft and steady, so luxurious. This week we are hot and dry, and I am not wasting my time with light sprinkling, nor will I compromise the plants roots like that. Deep moisture is the ticket.

Feed & Mulch I have a five-gallon jug of organic fertilizer gifted to me by our landscaping friend Scott, and I plan to dilute that in several ways and feed the holy heck out of everything I see. Then add mulch to the gardens in thick layers. Then probably water some more and light a few candles and send a tweet to P. Allen Smith asking him to light a candle for me, too.

Hover I just need to spend more time in the garden. More time doing things, besides taking photos. Pinching leaves, tucking soil neatly, watering, singing Beatles songs, removing bugs, etcetera. So much can be avoided and accomplished in the garden just by being present.

I always feel like I'm in Narnia when I walk among morning glory vines early in the morning...xoxo — I always feel like I’m in Narnia when I walk among morning glory vines early in the morning…xoxo

So my garden will look smaller for a while, overall, but healthier. That’s the idea at least. And of course the biggest idea is that in a few weeks it will bounce back with new vigor and continue producing delicious food.

How is your garden looking? Are you still collecting food? Are you battling squash bugs and goat-head stickers like me? Can you still appreciate the beauty in your Eden, despite the brutality of mid-August? What’s your plan of action?

Tell me everything. I could talk about gardens all day long.

Until it’s time to go for a run. Or read a new book.

The best fertilizer if the gardener’s shadow.
~proverb, unknown origin
XOXOXOXO

miracles & mercies (psalm 136)

August 11, 2014

A week ago I was standing alone in the empty dining room of our church, trying not to think too hard about all the life changes going on around us, about all the turmoil that is far from healed in our family and in our church community. I started flipping through a Bible someone had left on one of the round tables there. My thumbs fanned the gold-trimmed tissue pages and stopped for no particular reason at Psalm 136. My eyes caught a few verses and then a few more, and the rhythm mesmerized me. For 26 focused verses the poet recites big, miraculous works of God and follows every single time with the phrase…

It was beautiful. All that power poured out, all that repetition. The phrase gradually gained volume in my head and thrummed up an energy I was not expecting in that quiet dining room. Some old Bible stories I knew, some I didn’t, they all swam around me. I couldn’t help but respond in my thoughts, “I know! He kind of did that for me too!”

He has, you know. God has been working miracles and shedding grace in my life for years, for over forty years now; but since I have really been paying attention, the miracles have been stunning.

I am still in need of miracles and mercy, as I suppose we all will be forever. I know that now and am no longer surprised by it. But what I also know is that gratitude and appreciation are so powerful. Gratitude and worship will literally transform our perspectives and often improve our actual circumstances.

“Keep looking up, not ahead.” Thanks for this reminder, Marci. xoxo

What kinds of miracles have I seen?

God saved my youngest baby from a sudden, terrifying, life threatening brain event when she was a toddler. He helped her recover far beyond the doctors’ expectations, needing zero therapies afterwards. Just a few days after emergency surgery she was feeding herself grapes and giggling while my baby sister painted her nails.

God protected her a year later for another brain surgery, healing her perfectly despite so many things I cannot and will not even name.

God protected my first baby throughout a perforated appendix ordeal. A misdiagnosis from the pediatrician, extreme dehydration and pain, failure of the hospital to administer antibiotics, and so many related problems. He healed her. He relieved her pain between doses of morphine exactly when we laid hands on her and asked Him to help in Jesus’ name. He calmed the war between the families in order to get us all through the ordeal. He even helped us create unlikely bonds.

God timed our move away from the City so perfectly. This property became available (and the previous owners were in such a hurry to move) the same week Handsome received a promotion and significant raise at work. Every piece fell into place beautifully, and our dreams started forming right before our eyes.

When the farm house caught on fire a year after we bought it, God preserved my life and all of our animals’. He made the rough path of recovery really smooth and filled with blessings. The work required of us during those months ended up serving as a siphon for all the stress and grief that would come from unfathomable life changes that year.

When we were heartbroken God sent us friends that were closer than brothers and sisters.

When Handsome and I have been at odds with each other, God sometimes made us laugh and sometimes made us hurt so we turned toward one another again, standing together to face the world. Every time.

When we felt useless and irrelevant without our children, God gave us friends in need who accepted our love. He helped us feel that family glow in myriad ways and continued to spark our hope while soothing our nerves.

God gave Handsome a career that is more than a paycheck; it is an opportunity to do good in the world and make a difference.

They go on and on and on. Did we deserve even one of these blessings? No, far from it. Even the job-related blessings, the things for which we “work” are still expressions of abundant Love, forgiveness, grace, help at every turn. The miracles happen every year, every month, every single day. Constantly I see God’s hand at work in my life. He feeds me everything I need to be sustained both physically and spiritually. It’s overwhelming how much has happened in a strange, beautiful kind of way, thrilling outcomes that by every right should have been disasters.

What miracles have you seen in your life? What overwhelms your heart with gratitude and reminds you that God is in control of everything, no matter how dark it seems? Who in your life gently urges you to look up at the source of help instead of ahead to the next battle?

Thanks for joining me again, friends. I hope you are uplifted and encouraged. That you find a million reasons to say thank you. I hope that whatever you are facing can be surrendered in prayer. One day it all could become stories you tell about miracles and mercy.

O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good:
for his mercy endureth forever.
XOXOXOXO

august hive inspection

August 6, 2014

What a perfectly gorgeous day we had last Sunday for a bee yard inspection.

Maribeth and her husband Dean visited the farm, and we all had the nicest time laughing, trading stories, eating a long, leisurely, family style dinner (the first time she and I had cooked together, which was really fun!) and of course loving and admiring the bees.

Well, she and I loved and admired the bees. Our husbands have bonded over a general distaste for or at least mistrust of the buzzing, swarming creatures. They talk a lot about “hot hives” and how they need to be controlled or punched in their little faces because of the mowing difficulties they present, and both men complain good naturedly about how much money their wives spend on sugar for bee yard welfare efforts.

Now you know. Beekeeping is sometimes a controversial topic in marriages.

By the way, dinner was scrumptious. We feasted on roasted garlic-lemon chicken, fried garden squash, and this beautiful tomato tart, also using fresh garden produce. If you have not yet tried Edie’s tomato tart, please do so pronto. It’s prime time for fresh garden tomatoes, and this flavor combination is a sure bet. Just use your favorite pie crust recipe and have some fun. We loved it! Zero leftovers.

http://www.lifeingraceblog.com/2014/05/fresh-tomato-tart/

Okay. The bees.

There was really good news and surprising news.

The good news is that both hives are thriving. They are free of wax moths and all other problematic invasions. They are multiplying like crazy. And they are pulling out foundation on most, nearly all, of the frames. There is lots and lots of brood in each of the colonies, which is evidence of a queen, though we didn’t exactly see either matriarch. That’s okay.

Also, we didn’t even need to smoke the bees. Maribeth paid them a lovely compliment by calling them “exceptionally gentle.” Swoon! I know this is irrational, but that felt as good as if someone had paid my own daughters a compliment for their good manners or something. As if I personally have a single thing to do with the bees’ temperament. How ’bout we just catalog that warm fuzzy feeling among the many ways our friends and family have described the Lazy W: peaceful, life giving, loving. This is our dream.

Okay. More good news is that there’s a little honey in each hive, which means the bees are working toward a winter supply.

This also points to the surprising news, however, which is that there is not as much honey there as I had thought. If you’ve noticed me mentioning here or on Facebook that on warm days I can smell honey from the garden gate, that’s true; but perhaps it’s more the comb or the nectar warming up that makes that lovely perfume. And the glossy cells I’ve seen while stealing a quick peek inside the hives are not surplus honey at all. It’s very little compared to how many bees are populating the boxes. They will need every bit of that and more to survive the winter.

So. I will not be harvesting honey this summer, and our “welfare” feeding efforts will continue. I am totally, one hundred percent, whole heartedly okay with this, because the bees are happy. We have survived the first season with two new colonies. I have learned more. And, thanks to my Dad’s carpentry skills and generosity, I’m better prepared for the future this time. Maybe I’ll even learn to make splits or catch swarms.

One of the funnest parts of Sunday’s inspection was witnessing the birth of a baby honey bee. Can you even imagine the minuscule, delicate sweetness of that moment?

We caught it quite by accident, having noticed among so many crawling, working bees, their hineys up to the sun, one little bee face. A very tiny, pale one. Look in this photo below, how you can see the bees buried face down in the cells, working, hineys up to the sun…

Well somewhere on one of the frames we noticed a small, pale face instead of a hiney, and it was so obvious, so different, we froze all activity to watch. How I wish we had video to share or even one photo of that amazing moment, but try to forgive us because we were both dressed to the hilt in bees suits and veils, and operating smart phones with heavy gloves is tricky at best. All hail National Geographic, right? And just try to get honeybees to pose artfully for you. It is really truly not happening. We didn’t know until much later which photos turned out.

So as Maribeth and I watched silently, this speck of a creature chewed her way out of a snug, waxy cell, emerging very slowly into the fresh air. She was surrounded by busy bees (forgive the cliche) who just continued their work as she birthed herself. Another bee was chewing out of a cell adjacent to hers, and we were captivated.

I just wanted to share that with you. It was certainly a gift, to see her born. I tried relaying the joy to Handsome but he was still pretty wound up about the cost of sugar.

To round out this memory, here’s a quote from The Secret Life of Bees…

Thank you so much, Maribeth, from the bottom of my heart. You will never know how much I appreciate your gentle encouragement and generosity with your time and knowledge. We love having you and Dean as friends and mentors, and I love that you have helped me resurrect a family tradition. It’s the most beautiful thing.

Celebrate your progress, friends, and be sweet.
XOXOXOXO

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