Lazy W Marie

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

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sir romulus, 2010-2023

July 6, 2023

I have delayed writing this because it is just so hard to accept as real. Early this past Friday morning, we unexpectedly lost a long time and much beloved farmily member, Sir Romulus, the King of Llamas.

Romulus, King of the Snow. Emperor of Ice. Purveyor of the Cold.

Just before daybreak on June 30, I walked to his pen to say good morning and offer breakfast to him and the cats. I found him already passed away, presumably in his sleep.

He had not been sick and was up to date on his wormer medication. He had a great appetite and was drinking lots of fresh water, and he had been as sociable and sweet as ever. The only irregularity I had noticed lately was that he was uninterested in the water sprinkler, even on the hottest afternoons. Llamas can handle almost any amount of cold, even ice, but they are susceptible to extreme heat; and Romulus in particular was opposed to being sheared. So I am worried that the heat was too much last week. I am also worried that he was heartbroken over losing Little Lady Marigold back in January. They were so bonded, after all, and we wondered then how much her death would affect him.

This unexpected loss has rocked us. I still can’t believe it.

We have known Romulus since before he came to live with us in 2011, and even during a short chapter when he lived again with Dean and Maribeth (during a season of particularly dangerous horse conflict) we visited him periodically and loved him entirely. We feel so lucky to have lived alongside this majestic creature for most of his life.

As a solitary male, Romulus was incredibly chill. He coexisted with the Bachelors beautifully.

But then he fell in love with a gorgeous white and caramel-colored llama named Yoko, who would come to be known as Seraphine, and they blessed our menagerie with gorgeous babies. Who remembers Dulcinea? She was her father’s spitting image, though neither of them was much for casual spitting, thank goodness. And of course, the indomitable Meh. Romulus produced this incredibly personable, scrappy little son who has spent the last nine years trying to impress and out-llama his dad.

Once Romulus became a family man, he tapped into his impressive protective nature. One day everything just flipped. He regularly tried to murder the horses if they grazed too close to his woman or their babies, and he even challenged the bison a few times for unknown trespasses. He would pin his ears back, bare his slobbery teeth, vocalize in a deep, guttural, grunting way, and charge forward, mostly on only two hind legs, his sharp front hooves flayed out like knives. It was, and this is no exaggeration, terrifying.

It was hard to be mad at him for these offenses, though, because he was so nobly engaging with perceived threats.

It also bears mentioning here that in the natural pecking order of powerful animals, Seraphine outranked her mate by plenty and had no problem putting him in his place.

Dulcie is annoyed at no longer being the darling of the farm. Seraphine is fussing with Romulus, who is easily cowed down by her. Meh is bright and chipper, oblivious to the conflict.

Despite his dangerous behavior toward the Bachelors, Romulus never once hurt a smaller animal or a person. In fact, he was serenely curious about children, puppies, chickens, and squirrels. Often while gardening I would notice him and Klaus watching squirrels like Wimbledon in the oak trees. And of course, he had the sweetest disposition toward LLM.

I love this photo of a first meeting with baby Laika, two summers ago.

“Hello, peasant.”

Because of his overall calm with us, we will never forget the day he almost accidentally tossed my husband. One day in the big barn, when Handsome had all the bachelors lined up for shots, he casually looped a lead rope around Rom’s shoulders, attempted to pierce the syringe needle into his massive neck, and experienced firsthand the explosive power of a full grown llama suddenly thrust upright onto his hind legs. Romulus yanked Handsome right up off the dirt floor, like a ragdoll into midair, one slack lead rope connecting them, and made his anti-vaccine wishes known in an instant.

That was the end of that.

Romulus was the very first animal who let me experience the sweet rewards of a long, slow acquaintance. The first few days he lived here, he had free range of the entire farm. He wandered anywhere he wanted and politely declined all attempts to touch him. He nibbled everything. He was quiet and studious and extremely stand offish.

I vividly remember the afternoon I took the photo below. Handsome was at work. I was alone at the farm, work caught up, doing very little except learning this new creature. He and I sat on the grass, about fifteen feet apart, just staring at each other. Staring and staring, Both of us sitting still with our legs crossed. He would tilt his enormous ears in twisty satellite directions, collecting data of his new surroundings, evaluating everything. I remember smiling or breathing in a new way and causing him to twitch, tense, and soften again.

Romulus could hold eye contact without blinking like it was his God given super power. Gradually I could scoot across the grass, just a few inches closer, every few minutes. That was not the day he let me touch him, but it was the day he stopped avoiding me.

Eventually, Romulus grew to love face petting and throat strokes, and of course he was never not hungry for graham crackers, chocolate chip cookies, etcetera. He had a special bond with Handsome and would come faithfully to his voice.

Unless he was holding a syringe.

I love that we never had to worry about Romulus hurting a guest. I love that so many people got to experience his strength and his gentleness.

Who remembers the llama soccer game with Rom, Seraphine, Dulcie, Meh, and all the twenty somethings who were visiting one day?

I will forever be grateful that just a few days before his passing, Romulus enjoyed lots of sweet visitors. Our big family was here for a reunion and anniversary party, and they showered him with attention and treats. Mellowed greatly in retirement, Rom was known as “the nice llama.” He always seemed content with just us over the years, but gosh he became beautifully social and thrived on face time even more than the horses.

We already miss seeing his elegant silhouette in the morning gloom. A few times since Friday, I thought I did see him. I miss scooping his sweet grain over the red gate and sometimes feeding him a little extra through an open cottage window. I miss how he could not resist a graham cracker or similar sweet treat. I miss his tip toe walking, his impossibly long, broomy eyelashes, and his eagle-like brow. I miss his shiny toe-talons and his dark brown, woolly fur. I miss the perfect white mask on his handsome face.

We chose to memorialize Romulus and Little Lady Marigold together.

One more heart felt thank you to Dean and Maribeth for entrusting him to us, and for so much advice and encouragement along the way. Romulus was a gift, a lesson, and a blessing in thousands of beautiful ways.

Goodbye Rom-Diddle,
our sweet Llama in the Middle,
XOXO

6 Comments
Filed Under: animals, UncategorizedTagged: farm life, grief, llamas, loss

fathers day 2023

June 18, 2023

For a man whose nature demands that he take action and responsibility for every problem that enters his periphery, for a man who sees the world’s threats and pitfalls a split second before he sees its beauty, fatherhood is a natural fit. He is protective to a fault, and he is the most vicious troubleshooter you will meet. Anyone who lives under the wings of his protective reach is safe and well provided for.

I look at the examples of fatherhood in his life and see strength, a love of family and tradition, an immovable sense of responsibility, and passionate streaks. He exudes all these qualities and more.

I also see severe exhaustion, dutifulness that can lead to martyrdom, and maybe disappointment. He has experienced the richest gifts fatherhood can offer as well as some of the bitterest hurts. I worry about this. I already see these shadows casting long and dark in his legacy.

Life is like this, the brackish water always flowing. Sweet and bitter, mixed together, and every day we do our best to side with hope, live with Love, and choose joy.

He is completely trustworthy. He is perfectly reliable, able to foresee solutions to complex crises, able to maximize resources, and willing to take the back seat. Over and over again.

Since he agreed to take on the role of stepfather more than two decades ago, he accepted never being in the spotlight but always being the foundation, the back stop, the pillar.

He places a high price on fun and has over the years tried to carve out family adventures and daily silliness to lighten the heaviness of routine life. He has a desire to make dreams come true if possible, and he is painfully aware of how quickly time slips through our grasp. Sometimes it breaks my heart to watch him fight against the elements. It makes me want to protect him, for all the protecting he does.

His paternal instincts reach far beyond our home. Animals are always the first to enjoy his gifts. Then children in need. Children of friends. Employees and their children. Strangers. If someone crosses his path and activates his sense of guardianship, then nothing can stop him. I love this. I love that he is fulfilled by meeting the most fundamental needs in others.

((scarlett resting near the earliest daffodils))

I hope that in time his heart heals from these last several years’ shocks and injuries. I hope he begins to see his private fatherly investments yielding beauty and growth and absolute joy. I know he misses his dad. I know he misses Jocelyn. I know he loves every minute he gets with Jessica but wants something more. I know he wonders about other family relationships but keeps a light touch. I did not expect fatherhood at this stage in life to be so fraught with stormy emotions. But gosh it is. Fatherhood bears the weight of so much in this world. And it is embattled. Challenged. Watered down. Our best men are asked to do more and more with less and less acknowledgment and support.

Happy Father’s Day to the man who has more than earned celebration. May your resources be refilled. May your hope be renewed. May your own dreams come into focus and then come true. I love you always now and forever.

God knows everything
XOXOXO

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: family, fathers day, love

friday 5 at the farm, life lately

June 16, 2023

  1. Near Miss: Yesterday the weather forecast called for widespread, destructive storms all across Oklahoma. We expected thunder and lightning, flooding rain, and, I kid your not, hail the size of DVDs. That was a new one. I messaged Jessica mid-afternoon to remind her to park her car beneath their carport and to surrender her garden. As big and exposed as her vegetable garden is, there would not be much she could do to protect it. I gave her, “We’re all in the same boat,” kind of assurances as I gulped against worry for my own gardens. Her calm response shocked me. She recounted the last hail storm and the minimal damage they sustained then, and she described her voluptuous, unruly cucurbit vines, then said, “Honestly? Those pumpkins need to be put in their place anyway.” I died laughing. I am dead as I write this. The storm fell apart and neither of our gardens were pummeled. Her unruly pumpkin vines still rule the day. Cheers to wild Oklahoma weather, wild pumpkin vines, and even wilder daughters.
  2. Our Dance Card is Full: Handsome is working from home today while I wrap up a solid farm week. Then we will throw ourselves into party mode. Tonight we are hosting about a dozen friends for a little summertime kickoff. Saturday we will take the Batmobile to Edmond for a Touch- a-Truck event. And Sunday we will convene at Mom and Dad’s with local family for Father’s Day. Next weekend all of my siblings will be in the same city for a few days, and we have some big fun planned for that rare occasion! And summertime in general promises lots of cookouts, swim parties, outdoor movies, and adventures.
  3. Farm Improvements: We are so happy with how some house renovations went this spring, and we are now turning our imaginations and resources toward the south deck and the chicken coop, separately. While it may happen in stages, we hope to dismantle the warped wooden boardwalk near the herb garden and the decking around the pool. We want to replace it with concrete patio, sidewalks, etc. The vision is connect the kitchen door all the way to the bonfire area with concrete and rock, then to partly surround the pool too. We might in the near future sink the pool a few feet underground and replace the liner. On the other side of the farm, the chicken coop will soon get a power washing, some fresh nesting boxes, and maybe a coat of paint. That project is much smaller but perhaps more meaningful. I crave to let the flock free range again, but I shudder at the thought of what they could to my gardens. Light a candle or seven hundred for me.
  4. Garden Update: Bonkers. Everything is bonkers. I have a big metal trough full of salmon colored daylilies blooming and sunflowers about to bloom, also in that trough. Downhill, basil is growing thick and low like a pesto carpet. Tomatoes, peppers, squash and cucumbers, well, according to Jessica they need to be in their place. Salad greens absolutely refuse to stop. Nothing has bolted yet, thanks to this luxurious June weather. Potatoes were okay, and I managed to grow a basketful of onions, all of which get donated because we are not onion eaters. I am happier than ever with the shade garden. Perennials are really filling in this year, and I made decent choices for annual color. The Mural Garden at the top of our driveway is where I am growing my version of a Four Sisters combo (four, not three, because we have four sisters in our family), and maybe soon I will grab some photos of that. It is so lush and colorful. Filled with both food and flowers. Honorable mention to the Color Wheel garden, friends, because it has kept me on my toes. What a fun experiment!
  5. Reading Lately: I have a proper book review brewing, but please make time in your life for a novel called The Midnight Library. Also, are you subscribed to Joe Jacobi’s newsletter in Medium? He has fantastic daily journal prompts.

Happy Friday, friends, and happy Father’s Day weekend! However you are able to mark the occasion, I hope your days are filled with abundant Love and that you make some good memories.

One more thing, thank you so much for your kind comments and messages about my first set of people sketches! I am blown away by the richness of personalities in the world (in my life!) and will continue to try and capture them. I wonder if people want to be named or tagged publicly when they are the subject? Please vote.

Carpe this Diem
xoxo

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Filed Under: Uncategorized

sketches of people I admire, part 1

June 1, 2023

There is a woman who runs marathons and hikes fourteeners and lifts heavy weights, just because she likes it. She is a doe eyed vision of classic feminine beauty who clothes herself in artful tattoos and feasts on decadent food. She buys birthday cakes at grocery store bakeries for no reason, grows tulips by the hundreds, and plants native trees between boulders on purpose. She is devastatingly smart. Retired at a young age from the Air Force, she now works for a company that builds and maintains space stations. She raised her very own woman child who is blazing her own trails in life. This woman is a world traveler and book worm and a self taught carpenter. She is married to the love of her life and secretly has Frida Kahlo as the patron saint of her home office.

A man writes his musings and observations of life and family and community from his deep woods home. He is a hunter and musician and friend to everyone. He once had an almost human beagle whose death broke our hearts. After a decades-long career in the production and sale of electricity, he uses his unmatched gifts of storytelling and insight to lure his audience, connect them to broader scenes and overlapping ideas, and then drill them snugly to his own reality with details of his daily life. We all feel like we belong on his Arkansas mountaintop with him and his bride.

A younger man roams our small town, sometimes on foot and sometimes on his bicycle, occasionally with his aging service dog. She is plump and shimmery, with a silver-gold velveteen coat, cloudy eyes, and a pink harness. She is largely uninterested, or maybe too tired, to meet strangers. But her boy makes up for this. He knows everyone, and everyone knows him. He waves with his entire arm and shoulder, twisting at the waist as he does. He has huge blue eyes and an electrifying, joyful smile that is easily seen from a hundred yards away. He wanders and explores all year long regardless of how stifling hot or frigid cold the weather. His smile is unmistakable even from within his parka and insulated hunter’s cap. Seeing him sometimes puts me in the mood for a family reunion. Sometimes it makes me cry.

A woman floats gently in my imagination and lives concretely in my husband’s world. She is terrifyingly smart with a brilliant, crisp intellect, and she is an insightful writer and scrupulous editor. She is too accomplished for her young age and is ethereally beautiful. She proves, year after year, that motherhood can extend to our little brothers and our grown nephews and even, in the way that life is circular and treacherous, to our fathers. She could be my sister or my friend if we all had more time. She represents so many ways I once thought I could be or become. She has no idea how much I once feared her or how much I now admire and appreciate her.

Once upon a time there was a man who spent his youth enforcing the law, solving vice crimes, and running with a motorcycle gang in order to save young girls from being trafficked. He was an avid house remodeler, a craftsman and gardener long before everyone took those ideas from television. He raised a young family, lost his marriage, and spent that long middle chapter of life on a series of beautiful, tragic romances. He was a first responder at the Oklahoma City Bombing, a tragedy which fully altered the trajectory of his life and mental health. He retreated. Became almost a hermit. Healed a little, enough to reopen his life to old friends and new lovers. He immersed himself in Native American culture. In need of rescuing himself, he stayed in touch with two of the children he had pulled from the rubble of the Murrah building, now grown, perhaps more his than his own children. He bought a herd of bison and repaired fencing as a form of meditation. He applied his considerable talents to renovating his beautiful, private retreat. This man, having already lived twenty different lives of his own and filled with the wisdom from all those mistakes and experiences, showed us as newlyweds how life could be for us, too. After a long stretch, he died alone but within his paradise. He is forever in the fabric of our family’s collective memory, a much loved and unforgettable personality.

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plant health, mental health

March 24, 2023

Fourth grade Garden Club is always a delight. Every time we gather, the kids inspire belly laughs, and I appreciate gardening from a kids-eye-view all over again. On Facebook lately I have been sharing their zingers here and there, Kids Say the Darndest Things type stuff, but today I want to share something that encouraged me in a whole other sphere.

In addition to planting mustard seeds and checking the progress of our sweet peas and onions, the Garden Club lesson this week called for reviewing the basic needs of a plant and how those compare to what humans also need: Shelter (or location and soil), sunlight, fresh air, water, and nutrition.

Our lead volunteer displayed a potted plant that was pretty obviously neglected and canvassed the room for ideas about what might have gone wrong. A smattering of well informed answers rang out: “Not enough water!” “No nutrients!” “Couldn’t breathe!” Then, just as we were switching gears, at least four little voices from around the room suggested, “It’s depressed!” This garnered a mix of giggles and agreement. To be fair, every answer garners a mix of giggles and agreement. The whole group is constantly poised, for example, ready for one particular classmate to say, “My name is Christopher and I like chicken nuggets!” It literally slays every time. Christopher is jockeying for his own Netflix comedy special.

So. The moment passed quickly, as do so many high vibration moments in fourth grade, and I thought little of it until later in the afternoon. Seeds watered and tiny gloves and plastic spades shuffled away until our next meeting, the kids retreated to their regular classrooms. The Master Gardeners were debriefing a little bit. The school counselor happened to join us that day, and she seemed to enjoy hearing what we thought of our experience with her kids, who she clearly knows well and loves very much. I recounted the cuteness of their depression hypothesis for the ailing plant. She smiled, nodded, and gave some insight.

The school counselor has been teaching the entire student body ways to recognize that someone is not feeling their best, even when they don’t say so. They are learning to recognize signs of suffering in each other, simple clues that their friends or family members are not having their needs met. She has been offering them new vocabulary for describing how they feel, for understanding how others may feel, and for finding help from adults when needed. In other words, they are destigmatizing the human experience of not being okay; and they are building some pretty serious emotional literacy in the process. I was floored.

This focus on emotional literacy and recognizing when others are struggling is crucial, especially as we deepen our understanding of mental health. As we continue to break down the stigma around not feeling okay, it’s equally important to explore the many ways people can find healing. One such avenue that has gained attention is ketamine therapy, which is being used to treat conditions like depression, anxiety, and PTSD in innovative ways.

Unlike traditional treatments, ketamine offers a rapid relief from symptoms, often within hours, giving hope to those who haven’t found success with other methods. For individuals dealing with treatment-resistant mental health issues, options like Avesta Ketamine Wellness are providing groundbreaking care, offering a path forward for those who feel stuck in their struggles. What makes ketamine therapy so promising is not just its effectiveness, but also the way it allows people to regain control of their emotional health. By addressing the chemical imbalances in the brain, ketamine helps patients reconnect with themselves and the world around them in ways they may not have thought possible.

This type of treatment supports the idea that, much like the students learning emotional literacy, we all have the capacity to learn, heal, and grow—sometimes we just need the right tools or therapies to get there.

Just imagine the idea that a plant might be depressed. And imagine that meeting its basic physical needs will help it thrive again. Then apply that loving wisdom to human beings. Friends, can we please bookmark this topic for a longer conversation soon?

This curriculum would be amazing in any setting, and how much more thrilling to see the students naturally translate their knowledge over to plant life! Children tend to have an innate sense for wellness or discomfort, way earlier than they can verbalize it. This student body will have such an advantage in life.

I am so encouraged that this fresh new batch of humans is being armed with empathy, insight, and vocabulary to walk through the world more aware of themselves, more able to live kindly with others.

All of this plus, of course, the skills to grow a garden.

(How young is too young to recommend reading The Well Gardened Mind?)

Thanks for visiting this happy topic with me, friends! If fourth graders can learn to tend their emotional gardens, we can too. Hang in there.

tulip

Spring is here.
Every winter has its end.
xoxoxo

4 Comments
Filed Under: gardening, UncategorizedTagged: choose joy, gardening, mental health, OKMGA

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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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