Lazy W Marie

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

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book review: How to Grow Food, A Wartime Guide

Hey friends! I’d like to share with you my thoughts on the shortest, sweetest, and actually most inspiring little gardening book ever. My long distance bibliophile friend Brittany sent it to me toward the end of Pandemic; but sadly it, it being so diminuitive and me being so aahhhhh, it got lost in the choas of the Apartment. I unearthed it last week while doing a deep clean and was drawn in all over again by the cover art and title: How to Grow Food, A Wartime Guide.

((find this on Ebay!))

Originally published in 1940, it was reprised 2012 and I have read it at exactly the right time for my soul, as these things tend to happen. Are we at war this minute? Maybe not explicitly. But spiritually and socially, kind of. And as far as supply chains and economies are concerned, sure. So let’s grow food and lots of it and have a great time while doing so.

Okay. 1940, Great Britain. The book is written in a narration style, with a calm, tongue in cheek cadence and light touch of humor, despite frequent mentions of Hitler, food rations, refugees, and guesses about how long “this new war” will last. The narrator kind of oversees the fledgling growing adventures of Mr. and Mrs. B, who are British city dwellers recently transplanted to the countryside, in the wake of the first World War. Mr. and Mrs. B. are visited and haphazardly mentored by the only other character in the book, the “Weatherbeaten Lady,” who is eventually identitfied simply as W.L. She is the local countrywoman who knows everything worth knowing about gardening, and she is the opposite of shy about imparting her knowledge to her new and very inexperienced countryside neighbors.

The book is barely 80 pages long, so it’s a quick and delicious little read. Practically a weekday blog post in my world, ha! And each section is as fun as it is useful. Only a few bits of advice seem to not have stood the test of time. One example is the use of cyanide to elminate wasp nests. I’m not even kidding. And the old practice of “double digging” a new seed bed, while not completely out of fashion, is now hotly contested by the no-dig approach made popular by Ruth Stout and Charles Dowding. Eveything else, in my humble opion, can be accepted as at least an old practice worth trying. It’s a sweet and casual collection of old wives’ tales, good habits, and rules of green thumb. Overall, I really liked the October-to-September conversation about how best to grapple with the seasonal rhythms. I have long thought that gardening literature gets super granular way before it first offers a digestible overview of how to just look at your garden. How to strategize. How to see what is possible in your space and how to maximize your unique opportunities. This tiny little book provides some thought stimulus that most gardening books lack.

Here are some short passages I found especially sweet:

“This little book is not intended to teach the farmer or market-gardener his business. It is for those who have never grown food before, either because they have had no gardens, or because, being possessed of gardens, they have grown nothing but flowers.” This is followed by a long passage about the call to become a more “useful” gardener, ha!

“Now that the country is at war… poverty is not the point. Nourishment is the point. Whether one has money or not, it is possible that on some days of the week one will not be able to buy enough food to fill the inner man. But with a garden of vegetables, one will be able to get over the difficulties of distribution that seem to afflict the Government’s well-laid plans for feeding the multitudes.”

(In a paragrah about combating the stress of being stuck at home during a war, which absolutely reminded me of most people’s Pandemic experience…) “…to counteract states of mind, from whatever cause, there is nothing like gardening. It matters not whether the object of one’s labours is a parsnip or a penstemon, the work’s the thing.”

“…to work in the open air, at tasks which really need attention, is to diffuse thought and lull it, and at the same time to gain in physical well-being. It is impossible to be consistently unhappy while digging, planting, or weeding.”

Regarding the W.L.’s advice to Mrs. B. against well manicured and polished hands: “I never set up to be an authority on how to keep the hands lovely while holding down the job of gardener-of-all-work. I am content to keep clean. That’s easy enough. Earth isn’t dirty like oil or grease. Soap and water and a stiff nail-brush are all you need.”

Regarding the arrogant and untried Mr. B: “He studies how to dig. Not any fool can dig.”

And then the same man, after digging a while: “Why, in the first place, does one dig?” I found this turn of thought unreasonably funny.

After some rationalizing and slow learning, once the bones of their new garden have taken shape but they have admitted to not wanting flowers because flowers are not food, an epiphany: “Pretty? Mr. and Mrs. B, in a fervour of utilitarianism, had forgotten that the first duty of a garden is to feed the soul.”

Mr. B. is really falling in love with the practice now: “He thought of the grand rhythm of digging: strike, shove, heave, strike, shove, heave. He thought of the chocolate earth, that was so satisfyingly dirty in such an essentially clean way. He made plans for after the war.” Isn’t that relatable? The sense of being vaulted to a better future while tending the earth?

The narrator pauses to address the choice to begin this gardening story in October: “It may seem that I have begun my account of a gardener’s year at the wrong end: but I think not. The preparation is the real beginning of a garden: not the sowing.”

And a bit more about winter work: “There is little more they can do at the moment, so they busy themselves in collecting information and making additions to their calendar. They wish they had begun gardening last year.”

Much of the middle of the book is packed with specific and practical advice about actual planting practices, certain vegetables and what they like best, greenhouse tips, and more. There’s even a chapter about keeping livestock for the sake of the garden and food supply. I love the parts about farm compost. Here’s one about potting soil: “The best people put their potting-soil through a garden-sieve; I work it and crumble it with my hands, merely because I like it.”

“March- Now we get busy.”

“But the thing which most exercises us in April is weeding.”

“June- Keep hoeing. Keep hoeing all summer.” Hoeing ain’t easy, friends. You know this.

A thought provoking insight about strategy, especially if your growing space is limited: “If the choice lies between small fruit and vegetables, and if the country is at war, the vegetables have it. Small fruit, however delicious, is not an essential of good diet.”

((Radishes. Grow radishes, you guys. They are fast, delicious, and good for aerating your other crops (like lettuce) if you sprinkle the seeds among them.))

I want to be friends with W.L. and wonder if one day I will actually be her: “The W.L. smiles tolerantly, and the B.s feel that she is so full of superior knowledge that she could probably tell by scent where each crop had been. “ This was from a whole chapter about garden arrangement and crop rotation.

The early lesson about feeding the soul needed a few tries to really stick. In answer to W.L.’s offer of shared flowers, Mrs. B. says, ” ‘Oh I don’t think so- it’s very kind of you, but you see, we’re going to grow food.’ Patriotism and virtue exuded from her.”

Okay friends, I hope I have tempted you to find this sweet little thing and gobble it up. Do it after your circle everything you want in the seed catalogs but before you go outside and start digging. Read it knowing that Victory Gardens were exactly what made the difference for thousand and thousands (millions?) of people during WWII, and although our exact circumstances are thankfully very different now, some themes are repeating. A new kind of Victory Garden is called for. Do it. Dive on in with us. Grow some food and some flowers and find yourself your own Weatherbeaten Lady to mentor you, if you are not yet one yourself.

I barely wear sunscreen or polish my nails, so I can try to help if you want.

Happy Growing!!
XOXOXO

read, watch, listen January 18, 2025

The brain food lately has been delicious, friends.

The Huberman Lab Podcast always has great episodes, but I got more out of this conversation with Dr. Laurie Santos than most others. They explore happiness and biochemistry. They discuss all kinds of great reesearch and compare it to social norms, gender, dogs versus cats, you name it. They direct you to other authors on the topic, too. And their deep look at dopamine was extra valuable to me. Key takeaway: Beware any dopamine you haven’t worked for! Check it out for mentions of “time confetti” if nothing else. Yes, it’s long. It look me several sessions of housework or running at the lake to listen to it all, ha! But it was time well spent. This morning I started (but did not come close to finishing) a different episode he recorded with his Dad. They have a very sweet, respectful rapport, and the material is worthwhile: “How to Use Curiosoty & Focus to Create a Joyful & Meaningful Life.”

Also in my ears recently has been Ina Garten’s memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens. Oh my gosh. You guys. If you are already an Ina fan, then this book is a must read for you. Or consider it a must listen, because she narrates it herself, and she is a gifted storyteller with a voice like browned butter. If you don’t consider youself an Ina fan but you do love a nourishing memoir, you should still check this out. Her life story and career path are fascinating, and the way she infuses her expereinces with meaning is inspiring. She distills everything into translatable life lessons, useful to anyone. Of interest to me: She waited until the epilogue to utter the words in the title of her book.

I have been nibbling away at a book called Philosophy for Gardeners: Ideas and Paradoxes to Ponder in the Garden. I wanted it to be so great, you guys, and it may still be. I ordered it thinking it would be the book I always wanted to write myself, you know? But so far I am having trouble catching its rhythm. I’ll keep trying, because it’s such a great combination of topics. I have always thought of gardening in philosophical terms! But it feels a bit like an assignment. Wish me luck.

A book that has been easy to collaspe into is a Pulitzer Prize finalist from over twenty ears ago: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. When I can talk myself into sitting still to read, the words are like music to my eyes.

Our son in law Alex has a voracious and interesting appetite for information. He and I have lots of overlap, so I always take his sugestions when he sends them. This week he suggested the podcast “Unexplainable.” There is a great episode on whether AI can feel, and whoooooo that one is thought provoking. Since listening to that one, I flew through several more, various topics.

Handsome and I have been watching a trainwreck of a show called 90 Day Fiance. It is about as bad as it sounds, except for the deep dive into human nature. Love is an irreducible need, you know? Cannot say I reccommend it exactly, but there ya go, ha!

Okay, that’s what I’ve got to offer this week! What have you read or listened to that’s worth sharing? January is a pretty wonderful time to cozy up and feed yoru brain.

If you can’t find orgaic, farm fresh books to read,
Store bought is fine.
XOXOXO

garden check in, mid august

Hello, happy mid-August, how does your garden grow?

In Oklahoma, we are already enjoying a few softer days here and there, with temperatures often below normal and rainfall above. Then the heat returns. Then it’s mild again. And again, more equatorial heat. We are challenged by army worms but blessed with butterflies and wasps and frogs and birds, and we still have the prettiest daybreaks and sunsets anywhere. The Lazy W gardens are still producing tomatoes, tomatillos, herbs, zinnias, and peppers. And seeds I have sown recently are already an inch tall. But the brightest summer colors are beginning to fade. I see it first in the hydrangeas, and they are as beautiful as old linen or well worn blue jeans.

me and my giant parsley branches…xoxo

The older I get and the longer I garden intentionally, the less I see each year as a separate event. Certainly, they do all swim together in the fast moving stream of time; but more importantly, it is all a beautiful continuum. One gardening seasons leads and contributes to the next. Last year’s failures and successes become this year’s goals and puzzles, which set the stage for next season’s main show. The flowers reseed and the perennials grow and mature. Some die. The trees change silently, imperceptibly, then all at once one day they are towering and full bodied. Our tastes evolve, building aesthetic ideals one upon the other, hopefully honing ever more clearly on what we actually want from our gardening lives.

And there is always, always something happening outside. Something I absolutely love about living here is how much quiet drama is constantly available to us outdoors. Yes, summertime is rightfully the most glorious group of months because of the exuberant food supply and almost tropical colors everywhere. But the end of summer is hardly the end of the gardening year. I love knowing that. I love feeling deep in my bones the connectedness of all these efforts and all these various months and days. The life-affirming continuum of summer that leads to fall that leads to winter that was all preceded by dozens, hundreds, thousands of repeats of the same pattern. What if I die and someone takes over my gardens here? The work I do now, the choices I make, will become that gardener’s starting point. Just as the work done here fifteen years ago started me in my adventure. Or my Grandpa! His garden, though never my own, really started it all. I digress.

summer shade garden in mid august, where the chickens play

For most of this month and next, I am following a self imposed five step plan to keep the gardens thriving and happy and prepare for the coming season. I see it in these stages: Edit, Nourish, Fast Food, New Color, and Reflect.

#1 Edit ruthlessly! This is hard for me at first then becomes deeply satisfying. I pull hidden weeds, prune overgrown, leggy perennials, shear back flowering annuals to give them a chance to bloom again, and then completely yank out the summer vegetables that are well past their primes (looking at you, Japanese eggplant). I do a little bit every day, sometimes in passing, and then I do a lot with more focus in certain areas of the farm, a few times per week. One day it will stop growing back, ha. I have developed the habit of walking around with a five gallon bucket, a pair of scissors, and a little hand trowel to make the job easy and accessible. I was so gratified to hear that my friend Dee does this too! Once I get over the emotional conflict of uprooting plants, the thrill of creating blank space for the next project is even better than emptying an overstuffed closet in the house.

tomatillos, blackberries, beans, & parsley, plus blank space…xoxo

#2 Nourish! This time of year, all the shrubs and perennials especially benefit from a generous application of farm compost. I mound it up generously and let the chickens scratch it in then water lusciously, knowing most plants can still grow, still embolden their roots plenty, before frost. I am eyeballing the beds during this task to see where I might add more structure in fall, especially some evergreens. I am also tallying up how many new bags of mulch we will need when it goes on sale soon.

#3 Fast Food: As I type this, Oklahoma still has at least 62 growing days to go, probably more like 73. That’s a lot of warm, fertile weeks! I have already been sowing seeds for fresh sweet peas, bush beans, Swiss chard, pok choi, spinach, and arugula, all quick producers. I also planted some extra zinnias just for fun, but I think Leon the rooster scratched up and ate those. It’s fine. Soon I will add more lettuces, kale, radishes, carrots, beets, and more. I am amazed by how quickly they germinate right now in this warm, welcoming soil. It’s a different experience than springtime. And what a comfort to have these things to nurture in place of the things we lose at summer’s end.

#4 New Color: Before we know it, the nurseries and hardware stores will be overflowing with a flush of new color. I am excited to add lots and lots of it to our containers and beds, and I am wide open to inspiration based on what I see and what I feel will last the longest. I sometimes begin this season with a color scheme in mind but often abandon that completely when a certain flat makes my mouth water. The only plan I will absolutely keep is helping Jessica and Alex plant their first perennial border. That is exciting! Boxwoods, hydrangeas, and spring bulbs, here we come!

#5 Reflect: Again mindful of how “this year’s” garden is simultaneously part of both last year and next year, and realizing that my memory has better things to do than memorize verities and dates with much specificity, I am resolved to journal a little more intentionally. I want to capture my satisfaction with what has gone well and capture the regrets I have or the lessons I am learning.

I will always want more and more sunflowers. Always more…xoxo

This is where I am in the gardens for now. The days pass too quickly because they are brimming with goodness. I am so happy having the flock free range. Grateful for a ribbon of affectionate cuddling with the horses. Really fascinated with the compost process. Overall, just blissing out here. Thank you for listening!

One more thing, friends: I am slowly reading a new book called The Well Gardened Mind, researched and beautifully written by psychiatrist Sue Stewart-Smith. I am gleaning just so much from its pages, I cannot wait to tell you everything. If you believe intrinsically in the value of gardening to restore and maintain our health both physical and emotional, this book will resonate with you. Here is one luscious quote for you now:

“As children, and let us not forget it, as adults too,
we need to dream, we need to do,
and we need to have an impact on our environment.
These things give rise to a sense of optimism
about our capacity to shape our own lives.”
~Sue Stuart-Smith
The Well Gardened Mind
XOXOXO

sweet easy saturday & some reading

I woke up around 4:40 this morning, feeling so bright and wide awake that I was surprised by the bruised purple dark at the windows. Klaus and I walked outside for a few minutes then started the coffee. Today is a planned rest day, my hair was already clean and my body already scrubbed since yesterday evening, and Handsome and I had a few easy outings in mind. I adore days like this, when we have very certainly earned some R&R, I am unlikely to get too dirty or sweaty, and I can look ahead to several consecutive hours of freedom. Just meandering through the open waters of a rare, unscheduled Saturday.

Some details…

I have a solid reputation for being afraid of frogs. It’s not that I am afraid of them existing, in fact I am very happy that our farm enjoys so many of them; it’s just that I am afraid of them jumping into my mouth or ears, specifically. Look at this tiny guy, less than half an inch long! I found him in the herb garden:

so small!

What a day for easy socializing. This morning we got better acquainted with a neighbor and his German Shepherd (!!!), which was a wonderful surprise. Then we visited the State Fairgrounds for a junk and crafts show, stopped at my parents to chat a while and tour Mom’s incredible garden, then shopped at Savory Spice in OKC . Finally, we ran one errand at Lowe’s and ate lunch on the way home and saw another neighbor when we got here. All day long, at every turn, we visited with so many happy, friendly, talkative people. It hit me that we were like dry sponges just soaking up all those good vibes, all those funny stories and unmasked smiles. I am far from weary of the novelty of this fresh, wide open season.

At Savory Spice, a young woman approached me and asked if I remember her. It was a friend of Jocelyn’s from grade school! Of course I remembered her! What a joyful shock to see here standing there, a full grown woman, chatting about life and pandemic and career paths like anyone would. Talking with her flooded me with good memories and strong hope. Side note, I was proud of the progress I have made in my heart, that not even for one moment was I tempted to ask, “Have you heard from her, have you seen her?” There was a long season when I was scared and desperate for updates. We are way past that now, wading deep in assurances, choosing trust over and over again.

Here is a surprise purchase Handsome made while she and I chatted. I am measurably excited to find excuses to use it:

so delish

We have reached that time in the growing season when vegetables, flowers, and herbs insist on being carried back to the house, even if I am only wearing pajamas and not carrying a basket. I may need to sew myself a harvest apron:

snow peas!

Ann Voskamp shared a lyrical post that is loaded with great sentences. Here is one I especially loved: “It takes courage to listen with our whole heart to the tick of God’s timing, rather than march to the loud beat of our fears.” I found it restful and encouraging, just watch out for the butterfly story. Ouch.

Edie also wrote a great piece recently about how we speak, not just what we say but the tone we use, the energy we share with people. I loved so much of this. How true that life or death is in the power of our words. I occasionally feel resentful of the power my subtle mood changes can have, resentful of the responsibility that carries, but most of the time I am amazed by this magic. Our emotions are powerful energy, and I love that. Thank you for sharing every bit of this, Edie!

Jessica has started reading The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, which I will soon read again, to discuss with her. Book club friends will definitely remember this unusual novel. This is our current arrangement, sharing favorite titles with each other. I imagine we will soon venture into uncharted written territory together. I will say again, that reading books with your adult kids is just as wonderful as reading books to them when they were little.

Myself, I am reading The Witch Elm by Tana French. My gosh. Dense and spontaneous writing with arrow straight storytelling, loaded with sensual mystery. Loving it.

Are you following along with Dee’s podcast? She and Carol offer wonderful advice and inspiration every single week. Highly recommend.

Signing off, friends. We have more meandering to do with what remains of this fine Saturday. Choose joy!

“He who is driven by fears
delays the comfort of God.”
Ann Voskamp
XOXOXOXO

may 15th already?

A few days ago, between dinnertime and sunset, my husband and I were meandering around the south lawn when I spotted a dangling bouquet of scarlet red strawberries growing in that narrow, sandy little elbow near the Chinese umbrella trees. I picked a few for us to sample, and we simultaneously exclaimed at how sweet and juicy they were. So sweet! So juicy! Then he finished chewing and swallowed his and said, with complete sincerity, “That’s like a free strawberry!” It’s why we garden, folks. It’s for the free strawberries.

Please enjoy this very typical photo of Meh aggressively smooching Jess:

Speaking of Jessica, on her invitation, I just devoured The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. It is easily one of the most moving stories and beautifully written books in my life, so far. It should perhaps be required reading for anyone thinking of adopting a dog. Bonus points to the author for layering in plenty of messaging about manifestation and mind power. I loved it and cried and laughed out loud and cried again as I sped through the pages. This is the second time Jessica will have read it, and we are excited to sit and discuss it soon. The first time she read it was during our dark chapter of separation, something neither of us chose or wanted. Funny how life can twist and turn and give us myriad ways to reclaim what we have lost.

Myself, I am rereading An Other Kingdom, which I first read the winter preceding pandemic. Its themes and pointed spiritual challenges are even more throbbing neon today. Then, they were exciting, counter cultural ideas; now they are expressions of what so many of us have learned (maybe the hard way?) these recent stressful months.

“My life is either the performance of a deathly liturgy or the possibility of something alive, a liturgy of aliveness.”

The 2021 Lazy W gardens are mostly in and growing steadily. No overnight successes or transformations here, but rather a steady stream of seeds disappearing into the fertile earth and flats of annuals and new herbs here and there to fill in the gaps. I have added six different rose bushes (who am I?) to various beds and replaced two big ornamental grasses that did not come back after the brutal winter. Otherwise, I think all of my shrubs and perennials made it, even the crepe myrtles, hydrangeas, and azaleas. The daylilies promise to be stunning this summer. This year my food growing efforts are very much blended in with my flower growing indulgences. It’s all a big crazy, celebratory mix, is what I’m saying. Especially because I neglected to label much as I planted, what we see week to week is what we are gonna get. It’s fine. My gardening mood this year is definitely chaos and color, with a hefty dose of welcome and abundance.

Both last Saturday and this morning, Handsome and I attended small, local car cruise ins. These aren’t exactly car shows; they are casual gatherings for car collectors to mingle, enjoy a cup of coffee and maybe a free donut. During covid shut downs and quarantines last year, we missed 100% of the scant car events, so being back out and about, seeing friends we hadn’t seen in a year has been wonderful. We made a new friend too, and she happens to live on our road out here in Choctaw! Wonders never cease. She is brand new to Oklahoma, so I am having fun getting acquainted and bragging about my home state.

I hope you are doing well, friends! I hope that your mother’s day weekend, however you were able to celebrate, was loving and happy. I was spoiled rotten as per the usual, and I got to spend quality time with both my parents and my youngest girl (and Bean). Jess cooked a beautiful brunch, complete with a set table and handwritten letter. What’s better than your little toddler baby bringing you breakfast in bed, is your grown woman child inviting you to her house for a perfect meal.

That, and my hopes and beliefs for Jocelyn are so strong and exciting right now, I almost cannot find the words to wrap around the feeling. I wake up every day knowing in my bones that if I don’t see her that day, I am one day closer to seeing her. And my dreams about her are radiant and strong.

For personal reasons, I needed a little reprieve from the writing pandemic stories, but now I am ready to dive back in. Two more are in the wings being edited, plus three or four potential new interviews, and I am excited to share them all with you. Have you enjoyed reading them? Everyone has been so vulnerable and forthcoming. I have gleaned much more from this whole project than I expected to.

Okay. Onward to the rest of Saturday. Thank you so much for checking in!

“Well being is the only stream that flows.”
~Abraham Hicks
XOXOXOXO