Lazy W Marie

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

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full circle moments with jess and some veggie growing advice from grandpa stubbs

Hello, thanks for checking in!! Yesterday Jessica and I spent several hours together in the city, with the aim of installing her first garden. I have so much to tell you and will break this up into parts so you can read what interests you. It’s gonna be long. : )

Lunch and How Love Brings Us Full Circle

First, I picked her up at her new place and we drove south for lunch at the salad bar inside Green Acres health food store on 240. We both love salads and fruits and veggies to the max, and she said she had been craving it a little more than normal, so it was perfect. I loaded an obscene amount of everything into my plastic clamshell box and did not have leftovers.

We sat there talking about life and God’s plans for us and how things don’t always turn out the way we expect. But that His love and intentions for us are always good. She didn’t know that for several months now every message I get from God has been about unconditional trust. We reflected even more on her time in the convent in Germany last spring, on how her first month has been living on her own, and food and health and gardening and budgets.

The salad bar provided an excellent starting point for deciding which of the foods she likes to eat are also feasible for growing in Oklahoma. Not papaya, for example, but definitely cucumbers. We discussed homemade salad dressing and the past and the future.

And about how many small gestures or idiosyncracies she seems to have inherited from me. Ha!

Garden Shopping

After a refreshing lunch, we walked next door to Big Lots to buy her a shovel and a few other basic things, nothing fancy. (I still use a shovel I bought there over a decade ago!) She selected a pair of polka-dot cotton gardening gloves which were exactly her style but which later while digging in the dirt, she would toss aside because “It feels too impersonal.”

She used to say that when she was a little girl. At our old house in the city, the girls would sift the dirt with their tiny bare hands, twirl the earthworms between their skinny fingers, flood the backyard with hose water for “Mud Monster” days, and more. It was a very backyard-oriented childhood. I am so grateful for that and so thrilled at how much she remembers.

After Big Lots, we drove back toward downtown OKC to stop at Pam’s garden stand near the historic Farmer’s Market. The day was warm and sunny, and the spring winds were combing across row after row of intensely colored petunias, marigolds, begonias, coleus, impatiens, and much more. Ruffles of life and happy energy. We were in heaven. She explored the aisles completely in obedience to her instincts, touching everything gently, marveling at the variety. I could not take my eyes off of her tall, graceful frame. Not very long ago she and her sister were so small they would run between the rows and disappear into the ocean of color, shining brown hair bobbing up and down.

When we reached the building at the furthest corner of the city block, we found the greenhouse filled with vegetable seedlings. Humid and intimate, undecorated, weeds rampant on the edges of the gravel floor which is bordered with railroad timbers and concrete blocks, you step into a space like that and know that something primal and true is happening. The wind whipped hard at the plastic roof, over and over again, and it made my heart race. The plainest of plain handwritten labels, the strongest looking plants. Simplest pricing, almost like the exchange of money is a formality.

I enjoyed an intense memory of the vegetables my Grandpa used to start from seed and the plastic knives he used as labels, each little plant identified in his beautiful slanted handwriting, black magic marker always. “Celebrity,” “Early Girl,” “Beefsteak,” “Best Boy.” I selected one of each of Grandpa’s favorite tomatoes for her, and we found a few new ones too. “Super Fantastic” got a long, good laugh from us both! She was especially happy to scoop up yellow squash babies and cantaloupe vines. Bell peppers, a basil plant, and more. So much fun, this miniature safari expedition to start her very first garden at her very first place.

We paid for our bounty and listened to the growing advice offered for free by the proprietor. Promised to return soon and in the meantime to mound up the soil on that blackberry vine so its feet never stay too wet.

Back at her place, I was amazed again at how much gardening technique Jess remembered from childhood. She used to help me outside all the time, and the familiarity was deeply comforting. She’s an enthusiastic learner, too, so the information that happened to be new fell on eager ears. 

We took turns digging the virgin earth and clearing away dry leaves. (I should have brought more tools.) Fortunately, the little garden space next to her little patio was pretty good soil already, just a bit compacted and dotted with a few bricks which we unearthed easily. It was also laced with ivy roots from the adjacent yards. Clearing all of that was a good little exertion on a humid day, and I loved watching her concentrate on the space.

When it was finally time to arrange her tomatoes and peppers and plan the cantaloupe spots, this girl was downright giddy.

I can relate.

There’s so much more to tell, but let me end by saying proudly that she did such a great job on the first day of work and her garden will grow very well under her care. She already texted me this morning asking how I thought the overnights storms will have affected everything.

Veggie Growing Advice from Grandpa Stubbs

Since lately I can scarcely smell a tomato leaf or crush a spent marigold without thinking of Grandpa Stubbs, I hope you’ll indulge me by considering some practical advice from the best gardener I have ever known. And a very special thank you to my girl for listening to so many Grandpa stories yesterday. Telling those stories is how he lives on, and I know he would be thrilled to see his great-granddaughter keeping his old techniques.  

Tomatoes:

  • Strip the bottom one or two sets of leaves from the stem and toss those inside your planting hole for good luck. Where you removed leaves and created a small wound, the stem will grow new roots.
  • Lean your tomato to the side and place it almost horizontally into the hole, gently guiding the top of the plant skyward. You’ll be amazed at how readily the plant finds its way. Just be gentle, taking care not to break its neck. Firmly pat all the soil back around the tomato plant and press it well. Water deeply.
  • As the tomato grows, keep it groomed by removing not only yellow leaves but also any shoots that appear at the “Y” intersections. This is what thumbnails are for. If you’re feeling really thrifty and ambitious, you can root those suckers in a glass of water and soon have a brand new seedling to grow outdoors.
  • Coffe grounds and crushed eggshells are good additions for the base of your tomato plants.
  • Consider interplanting tomatoes with marigolds, nasturtiums, and basil. Grandpa once told me this was actually just for looks, a false old wives’ tale, not insect prevention as people claim. Then he exploded into that deep, loud, vibrant, chuckling belly laugh of his, and he called me “Mareezee,” and I wasn’t sure which was the joke, ha! I’m still not sure! But I always plant these with my tomatoes no matter what, and for every possible reason, just in case, and just because he did. And I suggest you do the same.

Cantaloupe:

  • In Oklahoma, this fruit grows well both from seed and as a seedling you buy at the garden center. Do it! It’s cheap and fun!
  • Grandpa trained his up and along a chainlink fence, maybe to disguise the eyesore in his yard, and it worked great. So he taught me to do this and I recommended to Jess that she take advantage of her chainlink wall and place her melon vines there. It’s strong and perfect. 
  • Once the vines grow (don’t worry, they will) and fruit appears and gets heavy (it definitely will as long as you water it a lot), use old nylon pantyhose as miniature hammocks to suspend the melons and take the weight off the vine. Repurposing. Jess was all about this idea!

Vegetable Seeds in General:

  • Most seeds want to be planted at a depth similar to their own size. So, sunflower seeds need a centimeter or so of dirt for a good burial. Radish and lettuce seeds, which are not much coarser than salt, need to be only scratched into the surface of your garden. Pat-pat-pat. 
  • Plant wide-row beds of lettuce, for sure, but also use that real estate below and between your bigger plants for spreading extra lettuce seeds, etc. Leafies make an excellent (and edible!) ground cover. Weed prevention and food at the same time, for almost no money.
  • Radish seeds, by the way, can be interplanted with all of your leafy greens. They will not only grow more quickly, which is exciting; but by harvesting the big ones throughout your salad garden months, the vacancies they leave behind will provide a little aeration.
  • Thin your radishes. You will almost inevitably plant them too thickly, so be ruthless in thinning them. Otherwise, none will have enough elbow room to mature. You can add the threadlike castoffs to your compost or eat them if you are cool like Grandpa and me.
  • Lettuce, kale, spinach, and more can stay in your garden almost all year if you trim the food with scissors instead of pulling the plants up. They grow over and over. “Cut and come again” is what they call it.
  • Water the seedbeds more than you think they need it, especially in the beginning, and especially as the plants get lush and summer heats up.
  • Don’t be afraid to try a small garden here or there in odd locations. Especially if you have access to magical compost! You might be surprised at what will grow in shade or in sand or in something else crazy. Seeds are not expensive and are a fun way to experiment with growing conditions, design, and more.
  • Have fun!! Laugh hard about it all. Spend time out there, just looking at it. Grandpa called this, “piddling around.” 

Those radishes got harvested today. Gorgeous!! Delicious!!

Friends, I will end there. My heart is full. I thank you for your love and hope you feel mine. Check in tomorrow for stories about Klaus and Lincoln! The brothers’ slumber party week continues.

“The best fertilizer is the gardener’s shadow.”
“Count it all Joy.”
XOXOXOXO

stormy skies & a calm heart

This morning Handsome took Klaus and Lincoln outside a little ahead of me, knowing I had slept roughly or not quite enough. More heavy dreaming. When I eventually joined them on the south lawn with two cups of Perfect Coffee, the dogs rewarded me with much bouncing and circle running and more of those snoot-to-tail grins. I sat on the steps of the hot tub while my guy soaked in the chlorine-scented water. We drank coffee and played with the brothers. My heart relaxed and I stretched my bare legs in the fresh air.

The winds were calmer than yesterday’s, but the skies dark blue and thick grey, clouds low and heavy. We could smell the damp earth and promised storms.

Radishes are fully grown and popping out of the dirt. Romaine lettuces taking shape slowly, Hail Caesar. Kale rough and bumpy, deeply hued. Vines of squash and blackberry in different raised beds now boast those first tight buds that will become blossoms that will become fruit. Even the small Three Sisters bed is suddenly dotted with sprouts of corn, green beans, and squash.

Oklahoma had a slow start to springtime. We all analyzed the weather together every day, nervously. We traded coats for jackets and jackets for shorts and then scrambled for coats again. We planted our gardens and protected them from frost. We lost a few things and mourned them. Planted more things, grew seeds in the safety and secrecy of warm garages with artificial light. Many days even I felt the optimism was too forced. How many times did I insist, “This is it, it’s here now, we can relax!”

But it really is here now, this fresh new springtime, this burst of life for which we have all been yearning. And already it’s almost summer.

That’s Oklahoma.

And that’s life.

Everything stays the same and we suffer through and hang on and encourage each other, believing ahead of time that things will change, that the Hard Stuff will get easier or lift away completely. We do everything we can to pave the way for miracles, celebrating ahead of time. Or we focus on getting stronger, on improving our coping skills and defenses against the elements.

But the Hard Stuff persists. None of it is on our schedule, no matter how we think things ought to be. We can rail against it all we want, these maddening delays and painful losses, but that only makes us angry and bitter.

And then one day it just happens. Life springs forth and all the seeds we have been planting grow into treasures more beautiful than we had dared hope. Some of the perennials, the life ornaments which we have learned to trust and treasure, unfurl and bloom more lushly than before. Still here with us. Just waiting for the right day. We have no control.

Thank you for reading, friends! Time for me to wrap up some morning chores and housework so I can get my miles in and scoot to the city for a day of gardening with my youngest.

You may already understand what a miracle this is in my life, if you know our family’s story. This time last year I was still protecting this particular hope secretly, in the safety of private prayer and hope and what some would call artificial growing conditions. Waiting, believing, despite the weather reports. The miracle was not on my schedule, but it was certainly worth waiting for. And now it is unfurling and blooming more lushly than ever.

I believe the same will prove true for much more in all our lives.

I wish you all the best as your springtime takes hold. I wish you the best warmth and nourishment, the best resilience, the best blooms and fruits after so many long winters. 

“You may encounter many defeats,
but you must not be defeated.
In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats,
so you can know who you are,
what you can rise from,
how you can still come out of it.”
~Maya Angelou
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

may 1: the why of what we want, some daily life tidbits, & 2 lists

Welcome to a blog post wherein I hope to play a little catch-up on daily life as well as highlight some things that are really glowing hot and bright inside of me. I am so glad you checked in today, thank you! I always appreciate your presence here, your comments below and on social media or email, and your friendship. I promise to respond to everything and I promise to write more regularly in May. Lots happening at the Lazy W!

This past weekend we enjoyed a heavy dose of spectacular spring weather. Warm temperatures, abundant sunshine and dazzling blue skies, just a trace breeze. Perfect. We stayed outside as much as possible and accomplished several good, worthwhile tasks around the farm. After physically crossing off the line items on a paper list, I added that scrap of paper to our 2018 memories jar so we could savor it all again on New Year’s Eve. It was that satisfying.

We also tried to walk around the OKC Festival of the Arts but found it way too crowded for the level of relaxation we needed that particular day. Some days are for the public, some days are not. We stopped for a late lunch of Tex-Mex instead. Back at home, I carried a book I’m reading out to the south lawn near the new raised veggie beds, added several cushions to a reclining chair, and propped up my bare feet. Sublime. That day was our first motorcycle ride together for many months, too. We enjoyed all of it.

(I’m reading The Handmaid’s Tale, finishing it up today or tomorrow, so we can start watching season two soon. Book review coming!)

Please enjoy the above random collection of necessities like a giant coffee mug, clean running socks, and a packet of sunflower seeds for growing, not eating.

Remembering the why of what we want, as my friend Brittany recently directed me to consider. I want sunshine and stillness and verdant surroundings. Inspiration and words. Sensual stuff. Bare skin, white as it is. Colors, textures, flavors. New things. Old things cleaned up. Assurances of love between those most precious to me, hope for the future of our little family. Time with our friends and a sense of real and lasting contribution. Art! So much art. Slowly prepared food that really feels good when you eat it. Conversation. Artful, interesting, thought-provoking conversation. Endorphins and sweat, soreness. Goals worth working for. A sense of calm and completion. 

These are the things I chase each weekend, and as often as possible in the days in between. This past weekend was a win. 

On Sunday evening we tried to take advantage of the perfect weather by driving a fun car to the city, but our idea was thwarted by mechanical difficulties. Add that to the list of things that need attention, but it’s no big deal.

We have settled into a pleasant tension between work and play. And between mental work and physical work, too, the latter of which being a welcome release for my husband. He values more and more the satisfaction of seeing his efforts made manifest visibly after a long week of phone calls, meetings, emails, and other stressful but not always clearly fruitful efforts. You know? Office dwellers can surely relate to this. And yes to the good feeling of doing any job thoroughly, slowly, and well. No rush, when possible.

The reason for our drive to the city Sunday evening was to join a handful of other married couples for a monthly “Small Group” dinner. We have been attending since around Christmastime, and we love it. It’s very casual. And very nourishing. Our friends Mickey and Kellie invited us to join the group, which is hosted by Gary and Stephani and includes two other wonderful couples. We are all from different backgrounds and ages, different church associations, and different marital histories. Just different people! I love it! The group is patchwork, yet somehow it feels designed.

We meet one Sunday each month for a meal which our very gracious hosts plan and to which we all contribute. (I now get so excited for Stephani’s Friday afternoon texts about what she’s serving that coming weekend! I love to host friends in our home, and I also love being a guest!)

Stephani always has a gorgeous and seasonal centerpiece on her dining room table (my favorite so far has to be Valentine’s Day). This month, capitalizing on the weather, we ate on their deck. The centerpiece was edible and just so good. 

We eat great food, catch up on life, and trade prayer requests and testimonies about how God has been moving. This group of friends feels safe and warm. Smart and intuitive. Handsome and I have already shared with them pretty openly our family struggles of late, and we know that they pray for us in between our dinners. We certainly pray for them too, and we are becoming emotionally attached to their lives.

Side note: Kellie has ruined me for any kale salad that does not contain goat cheese and pickled mustard seeds.

We discuss Bible verses affectionately, not in a cold or authoritative way. We lift each other up, and everyone seems to leave feeling better than before, vessels filled and strong. 

If the gathering could be a flavor or food of its own, it might be a warm-from-the-oven sour-apple tart with a firm shortbread crust and thinly sliced fruit, lots of cinnamon. The tart would be crowned with melting vanilla ice cream. Sweet and salty, warm and cool, flavorful and filling, substantial. Not a dessert that disappears too quickly. And the thing you look forward to eating slowly, on a special occasion. A dish you have plenty of to share with your loved ones, too, and you probably do not need a recipe to make it. Just time, a few supplies, and lots of love.

Like loaves and fishes, which happens to be what started a great conversation this past weekend. Storms brewing and unconditional trust like your eyes are closed on a rollercoaster and loving God for His character, not just the gifts He lavishes on us. But remembering His works, too. Reminding each other how good and faithful He is. Of His abundance.

This small cutie is Magdalene, our hosts’ miracle daughter and without a doubt the darling of Small Group. She and Handsome shared dry cheese, prosciutto, and flat crackers on the deck just before the wind kicked up to illustrate the stormy sea parable. She also offered him olives and tiny fist-scoops of guacamole, which he accepted then stealthily did not eat. Can we all pause to appreciate that a toddler has a wider range of tastes than my husband? Okay.

And her curls and eyes?? My goodness.

Lincoln, Klaussen’s brother I am sure you remember, came to the farm last night. Too much time had passed since our last Shepp slumber party, and we all are enjoying a really happy reunion. All of Tuesday so far has been spent alternating between several enthralling activities.

List #1, German Shepherd Brothers’ Daily Agenda:

  • Cuddling each other
  • Rough-housing with each other
  • Seeing who can be closest to Mom/Lady (that’s what Lincoln calls me, he calls Handsome “Fella”)
  • Chasing but not hurting the cats
  • Running dangerously close to the horses
  • Putting on a show involving fetch apparatus but not actually fetching anything
  • Eating waffles and other treats 
  • Eschewing dog food in favor of said treats
  • High-step prancing around the yard
  • Sniffing the chickens
  • Sitting on Mom’s/Lady’s feet while she types
  • Jumping on the bed as it is being made
  • Watering the gardens and peeing on all the blackberry vines (separate activities)
  • Getting brushed outdoors
  • Doing battle with the vacuum sweeper
  • Napping
  • Smiling from head to tail
  • More napping
  • Welcoming Dad/Fella home with unbridled enthusiasm
  • Aforementioned continued napping
  • Waiting for treats based on the fragrance of dinner cooking  for the parents

I hope Linc gets to stay several days. We love him so much.

My sourdough starter experiment continues (you can see most of these in Instagram stories). Last week I tried a new slicing-bread recipe that called for warm milk instead of water to activate the yeast, plus extra yeast, and the final product was indescribably soft with a tender crust. So good for mopping up runny egg yolks at breakfast.

Last night I mixed up some batter for overnight waffles and cooked them up early this morning. That was a success too! I am collecting all the recipes I’ve tried this past month and will write a blog post just about that soon. If you have a favorite use for sourdough starter, please send it my way! This is so much fun.

I have been dreaming heavily again. Last week I dreamed I was visiting a group of elderly men and women, a scene not unlike one from the movie Cocoon, and they were all so excited to be moving to the Dallas area. Dressed in floral shirts and visors, they were giddy with excitement to be leaving soon. I told them my Grandpa had just moved to Dallas and that I missed him so much. In the dream, I was crying inconsolably. This put a serious damper on the mood as one by one they considered who would miss them after they left town. I woke up sobbing.  

Last night I had an unsettling but still encouraging (I choose to see it this way) dream about Jocelyn. I can barely articulate it. But I know that God is moving. The sensations are familiar. The dream had to do with readiness and surprise, with changes of location and the false appearance of things, especially social media. 

Whew! So many feelings!

Today around lunchtime I kicked off the new month with 8-ish miles, mostly on trails. My hormones are dipping low today and the winds are crazy high, so it was a struggle but still refreshing. That’s how running sometimes is, and I love that! It feels great even when (especially when!) it’s hard.

I’m not sure yet how far I will run this month, as I have two fun trips on the calendar; but I was happy with how March and April fleshed out, all things considered. I am healthy and uninjured and very happy in my legs and belly and heart and mind, all the places that matter. I am at that place of feeling grateful for every mile and for all of my running friends and the inspiration and support they share. More on that soon!

Which brings me to List #2, Favorite Podcasts Lately, which I save for slow easy days like today:

  • Run Eat Repeat
  • I’ll Have Another with Lindsey Hines
  • Oprah Super Soul
  • Run to the Top
  • My Seven Chakras 

By the way, today is the first day of a new month (doesn’t it feel like we have been waiting on May forever?), and the moon was recently full and those energies are so powerful, and my heart is brimming, spilling over really, with gratitude.

I have to sign off for now. Tomorrow just might be spent gardening with Jessica, which is obviously very exciting! She has grown a little since this gardening photo:

Sweet sleep. friends. I would love to know what blessings you’re counting tonight, what magic the full moon is delivering in your world.

“Despite knowing they won’t be here for long,
they still choose to live
their brightest lives.”
~Rupi Kaur
XOXOXOXO

or we could just buy new coffee filters

Story #1, The Mystery of the Hand Warmer:

This past Sunday Handsome and I took Klaus to Oklahoma City for the Open Streets festival. Despite the dark and chilly afternoon, we had so much fun! My parents and local sibs and beautiful nieces were all there too, and I loved every minute. Easy family time. We just enjoyed walking up and down the venue, meeting the vendors and jumping rope badly (me) or great (Angela), letting Klaus sniff each of the seven thousand dogs. (He was extremely well behaved. We were proud dog parents.)

And we showed up in a photographer’s public gallery, so we’re famous now, right??

At one point in the exploration, I was walking with Chloe, my sister Angela’s second born. She is a girl with sharp wits. A biting wit, you could say. Her mom bounced up to us and we traded updates about our meanderings. Then she remembered a free giveaway token in her pocket and showed Chloe. “Look, I got you a surprise, you’re gonna love it!”

Some background: Angela is very good at selecting personal gifts, big and small. She has a talent for showing you that she gets you. I love that!!

Anyway. The surprise was a single use handwarmer, the foil-wrapped kind, provided by one of the festival vendors. Chloe had been cold and it was so sweet and funny.

Then it got really funny.

Chloe asked aloud, “How do they work?” and everyone started offering their ideas.

As if none of us adults had ever successfully used a chemical hand warmer before.

Like ever in our very mature lives.

The possibilities of how they might work seemed endless. Who knew the secrets of these tiny packages of sorcery?! Perfect little modern miracles!! Angela and I got more excited and cracked up by the second. We knew it was ridiculous but couldn’t stop. (We also just didn’t know.)

“I think you break it like a glow stick!”

“No, I think you just squeeze it, I’ve been squeezing it a lot in my pocket already.” (Like a picnic condiment, probably.)

“Do you cut it open?”

“Are you sure it’s not electric?”

And so forth.

Imagine a calm but simmering middle school girl fluttering her beautiful eyelashes and collapsing her posture just a little more than it already was. Imagine her sighing so loudly we could hear it even above our cacophony of brilliant ideas.

“Or… you could read the directions???” Freckles sparkling on her cold cheeks.

We busted out laughing so hard and looked. Yep, sure enough, the foil wrapper was printed on one side with clear instructions which were, I am sad to say, not remotely close to any of our theories.

Oh well.

This reminds me of another Chloe story. I am pretty sure this took place last March when our whole group was in town for Grandpa’s funeral.

That photo above is me with my four siblings, March 2017. From the left, not in birth order, is Gen, then me, then Joe (Joey ok PLEASE), then Ang, and Phil (John to his coworkers and to my confoundment). My joke for this moment is that it looks like we had just cut a Beastie Boys cover album. The truth is, we had.

Story #2, Coffee Filters:

Ok. Three generations were crowded happily in Mom and Dad’s living room, talking about lots of irreverent things, things that were especially irreverent considering the somber reason for our gathering. One of the conversations was centered around suitable emergency substitutions for coffee filters.

I don’t remember exactly how this started, but it took off like widlfire. Considering ourselves a clever and resourceful bunch, the list grew by the minute. People suggested clean socks or tee shirts, paper towels, tissue wrapping paper, flour sack cotton, and much more. No one claimed (or admitted) to have ever tried any of these things, mind you; but we were in an unspoken contest to one-up the previous suggestion. You have siblings. You know the drill.

This whole time, Chloe had been playing a video game with her slender back to the room. She had so far contributed zero to this lively exchange. Out of the blue, she said, “Or we could just go buy some more coffee filters!” Dripping with both sweetness and acidity.

We all lost our minds from laughing. 

And that is the end of my story today.

A straight line is the shortest distance
between two points.
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

 

there’s no crying in blogging!!

It has been brought to my attention that so many of my posts lately are, however appreciated or readable, so sad that a very special person in my life can no longer read them at work for fear of crying at her desk. So I am dedicating this post entirely to her, and it will contain only funny stuff. Three stories.

Also. She and I are embarking on a new book, reading in tandem The Radium Girls by Kate Moore. We will explore these 400 pages across time zones and while juggling very different lifestyles. I can’t wait to discuss it with her! And I will post a review when we finish.

Okay. Three short stories, all painfully true:

  1. False Alarm: After a good speed workout at my favorite four-mile loop, that one at a nearby reservoir that is so well patrolled by both local police and the sheriff’s department, I was stretching near my car. Really stretching, and actively celebrating a good run because I love my tendons and ligaments so much right now. A police officer with whom I have a hand-waving acquaintance sped over and circled up alongside my car. Kind of in a startling way. I thought for sure I was being arrested. (You know, for running too fast, ha!) He asked if I was ok, I confirmed that I was great but had I done something wrong officer, he said it looked like I was flagging him down for help. That, my friends, is some over-achieving stretch work!
  2. Zero Upper Body Strength: One afternoon this past week Handsome and I took Klaus to a nearby park to romp around and sniff things, two of his best hobbies. I spotted a small monkey bar and had no choice but to attempt an old-school penny drop. This was a staple back in childhood, something my neighborhood friends and I did from the swingset hundreds of times per day and eventually perfected so well that we often hosted backyard performances for Mom and Dad. Once they even brought popcorn and lemonade and offered us scores. It was like the Olympics! It was also the era of Mary Lou Retton, okay? We nailed all the landings back then.Well, back to 2018 and I am 44 and my penny drop days might be far behind me. Despite some recent efforts to lift a hexagon weight here and there, I could not even hoist myself up to the bar without a phenomenal, crawling and moaning, very awkward full body effort. The difficulty was stunning, especially compared to how buoyant and energetic I had felt all day. When I finally got my knees hooked over the bar, my fancy Old Navy workout pants made the whole situation so soft and slippery that my husband said something like, “Don’t break your teeth!” To which my brain added, “…again!!“SoI dismounted (that’s a gymnastics term, don’t worry about it) and aggressively scooched the purple compression fabric up over my knees, hoping some skin contact to the metal would help. It did not help, but it did summon happy memories of raw skin and summertime. Also, I am 5’8″ and the monkey bar was built for children, so once I stretched out upside down, my head almost touched the ground already.


    So I dismounted again but didn’t exactly nail the landing. Really a fantastic anticlimax. Then I spent several uncomfortable minutes working to un-scooch the compression fabric back down to my ankles. It had sort of cut off the circulation at my knees.
    A penny drop did not happen that day, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. Do I want this more than I want to beat my brother in a half marathon? Maybe.

  3. Staple Gun Drama & Marriage is Hard: Yesterday, just before the weather turned cold and ugly, I wandered outside to see what kind of protection the gardens would need overnight. So much has broken dormancy and has been growing well this month, I didn’t want to lose anything to the predicted frost and freeze. I carried to the raised veggie beds a large sheet of landscape fabric, buckets, and my husband’s staple gun. He offered to help me with the staple gun but I took such great offense to him obviously thinking I was too dumb and incapable to operate it myself that I said something sharp and refused all assistance. He went back inside, wounded a little but mostly stunned I think, and I proceeded to deal with the project at hand all by myself thank you very much.Guess what. I couldn’t load staples into the stupid staple gun. But rather than ask for help I went to my little tool cabinet and brought out a hammer and box of finishing nails instead.  I hammered that white fabric to the wooden boxes as quietly as possible, tap-tap-tap, glancing furtively over my shoulder the whole time, lest my temporary opponent might hear the banging and feel victorious.Ok, as you might have guessed, he definitely heard the hammering and also saw through the upstairs window that I had abandoned the staple gun.Later I apologized for snapping at him and explained why my feelings were hurt but that I knew he had good intentions, is only ever trying to help and obviously he knows I am a genius. Obviously. He nodded enough to satisfy me then said that, actually, he had seen that I was trying to use a broken staple gun. Apparently, we own two. The End.

Sometimes life is easy-squeezy-lemon peasy.
Sometimes it is difficult-difficult-lemon-difficult.
XOXOXOXO