carpediem

friday 5 at the farm, straddling seasons

September 13, 2024

Hey friends, hello! How goes your passage of time? The clocks here, and the calendars, still refuse to slow down. We often catch ourselves looking up with bewildered expressions, asking each other what day it is, what year, and again for good measure, are you sure it’s already Thursday? Already September?

That cannot be right.

Thankfully the days and weeks are packed with work well executed and memories well crafted. We are buoyed by extravagant laughter and nourished by even more extravagant food. So, if time seems to be accelerating, at least we can feel sure that we have redeemed it all for the best treasures. I do think we have.

((hydrangeas fading into their autumnal glory))

Here are a few headlines, in classic Friday 5 at the Farm style:

ONE: Handsome’s birthday week was rock solid and glittering and, worth remembering forever, covered with a lavish mountain of hypoallergenic foam and sprinkled with disco lights. We first celebrated with our hilarious neighbors who donned shark and mermaid costumes just to make him laugh, then at his office with the Pubic Utilities Division (forever in our hearts), at a gala downtown (we sat alone at a table for twleve but had great fun together), in Bricktown with a small group of fun seeking friends (only one bone was broken), at the farm with even more friends (barn movie and FOAM), and daily, just the three of us, in as many small, sweet ways as we could manage. We even indulged in a double date night with Jess and Alex. Handsome reported feeling very loved and celebrated, which makes my heart happy. He is the engine that keeps so much in this world running and moving forward, and he certainly tends to give more than he receives. So at least at his birthday, I love seeing him spoiled rotten!

TWO: The middle seasons have begun their long, slow ceremony of changing guard. Summer is folding up her threadbare and wrinkled flag solemnly, advancing one measured step at a time toward Autumn, who yawns and rolls her shoulders, blinking without an agenda. She is ready but in no hurry. Autumn will steal no glory from Summer, because she knows that once we settle into her embrace we will not look back. We’re all a little tired. Still, the landscape still boasts more saturated color than muted. Flowers are still blooming. Tomatoes, basil, and eggplants are still offering us their final promises. And our air conditioner is still keeping the house cool and fresh, for a few more days at least. This is the in-between, the bridge, the weeks in Oklahoma when anything could happen and often does. I intend to absorb and enjoy the details as they come.

THREE: I remain deeply thankful for a farm full of healthy animals. Chanta and Dusty are thriving in their fatness and rippling muscles, good teeth and less troublesome hooves. The cows are enjoying their preordained romance, to the extreme most days, and have you heard that Scarlett has been sleeping in the wild coreopsis? Most mornings, if I do not hear her mooing early for breakfast, she is still asleep in that especially tall, thick patch of yellow flowers on the west side of the big barn. I will admit that we have not collected a fresh egg in over a month, but that might be due to the flock being free range and definitely prone to laying in strange places, like open vehicles and soft hay bales. I recently discovered a clutch of fifteen eggs in a deep hollow below some Mexican sunflowers. Tricky girls. Mike Meyers remains the reigning champ of happy splashes.

FOUR: Speaking of gardens, whew! For someone who talks about this a lot, I sure do not seem to have any idea what I am doing, ha! That extra long stretch of 100-plus weeks with no rain was challenging, but still so much survived. Our water pressure troubles have been resolved, and I am back to watering on a cautious rotation. We have more cooling on the forecast, too, which will bring tangible relief. Now the name of the game is taking stock of what is still full of good energy and then babying those plants with every trick in the book. Any blank space that comes from removing weeds and spent plants will be given the chance to host broccoli, spinach, lettuces, carrots, kale, pansies, and a few more fall treasures. For the next several weeks I will be busy with the school gardens too, so available time to play outside might be limited this season. We shall see. Really, everything is fine. Not the lush and productive garden she was in July, but still beautiful.

FIVE: I have been a glutton for great reading and listening lately. Recently, I finished off another Abraham Verghese novel, this time Cutting for Stone. His writing is one of the most mesmerizing and thirst quenching reading experiences you can give yourself. Please choose a title, any title, and let me know how much you love it. I also finished The Stand finally, after many decades of wondering if it was for me It is!! Oh man it is. Stephen King is a crowd favorite character writer for good reason. I had forgotten. Also loving some good marathoning podcasts lately, but maybe I’ll save that for an upcoming running update.

Okay, friends, listen. As if to underscore how quickly time passes, let me admit that I wrote this “Friday 5” post exactly 8 days ago, intending to share it with you last Friday. Since then, we have enjoyed refreshing cool weather and more hot weather. I found the energy to run sixteen miles, most of it with my dear friend Sheila, the longest run I have tackled in a while. Jess and I had an incredible garden clean up day at her house then another spontaneous day of baking something extraordinary, here at the farm. We are all working and playing and loving each other left and right, even with an unexpected handful of sick days for my husband. Life is good. Life is beautiful in every way. I really that the days are so full we have to consciously stop and look aroudn to see what we are doing.

Happiest Friday ever to you.
XOXOXO

contradictions & harmony, freedom & chaos

November 17, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*reigning queen of kicking rambunctious puppies*

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

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

*can’t buy what I want because it’s free*

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

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

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

May freedom and a touch of chaos reign.

XOXOXOXO

sweet easy saturday & some reading

June 5, 2021

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:

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:

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:

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

stress management, farm abundance, & the real vibrancy of love

July 12, 2020

Staycation Day Two: We reclaimed the whole point of being off work.

It almost never fails, that every time we anticipate a good relaxing stretch of days, something happens to jam up our chi. Sometimes it’s one huge crisis; other times it is the cumulative tide of smaller problems. I know this is universal. But this year, stress has been too damaging and joyful miracles too abundant for us to sit idly by and just allow the negative inertia to win. I mean, really, we should never allow it to win, right? But it happens. Stress is sneaky. But we are smarter and more resilient than everything that comes against us.

Ok, here’s the thing: Our air conditioning unit had some kind of catastrophic failure. Also, I skipped running some miles thinking that’s what my husband wanted (I was wrong), and it put me in a weird mood. Then he got chased by wasps. Three dumb things in a row, ok?

Happily, the burst open fly trap from last night is a distant memory, so the deck and pool area are no longer stinky. (And Little Lady Marigold has forgiven us wholesale, a fact she proved with an extra dramatic blaaaa-eeehhh at breakfast). But we are pretty accustomed to enjoying all the outdoor activities that cause heatstroke (swimming, gardening, playing in the car shop, chasing Klaus), if only so that we might retreat to the chilly, concrete-floored living room and watch a movie together. So we called a guy. We know a guy.

We called the guy then had an open, honest, lovely heart to heart conversation about not letting stress win and about transparent about what we need day to day, and we treated ourselves to lunch from Braum’s.

Now we wait.

My groom and I will soon have a cold house again.

So then we will go outside again, obviously. And he will promptly get chased by wasps. Again. You know how they say that the Universe continues to send you the same lesson repeatedly until you learn it? It’s more true than anything I know.

Mindset and intention matter.

The oregano and Rose of Sharon are especially magnetic to bumblebees. All day every day, the chubby, fuzzy creatures hover and dive noisily among the blossoms, reminding me that the garden is really theirs. The “High Biscuits,” as my girls used to call them, are stunning at the edge of the shade garden. Zinnia and okra seeds I planted a few days ago have already sprouted. I keep harvesting squash and tomatoes, fruits I could barely see a few hours before. The hens are happy to produce eggs, still, despite the heat.

It’s a thrilling time to live on a small farm.

Even the pond is full to it banks and wildly alive! Mama Goose and Johnny Cash, our two South African geese, swim gently like swans then run up the greenbelt of the middle field then feast on bugs in the garden then descend to swim again. They have wild visitors that include a blue heron and a small flock of white egrets. The horses take their fly spray contentedly, and the llamas are thankfully too relaxed to wage battle. Frogs, snakes, dragonflies, and spiders must number in the millions this year.

I love that our afternoons are too bone meltingly hot and humid to move quickly. The pace helps me see things.

This popped up in my Facebook memories from last summer:

Love is an actual cosmic power.
It is THE power.
Love overshadows everything else.
It’s not a flimsy, meek, gentle, water colored Victorian notion of hope for better days or a feeble turnaround.
Love is a loud, smiling, terrifying, throbbing neon bulldozer that, once unleashed, mows down every obstacle and razes mountains.
Love heals diseased relationships and connects people across oceans of separation, in unseen and truly mystical ways. Love provides for physical needs in ways that cannot be explained.
Love can be gentle, but it is never weak.
Love is the root of every good and beautiful thing, and it is the ultimate end of all difficulty too.
If you feel like love is just a lottery ticket, a slim chance at some kind of emotional or circumstantial lottery in life, try thinking more concretely. Think of Love as what encompasses EVERYTHING and ALL of your loved ones.
Trust all of that pulsing energy because it is just waiting to prove itself, for your sake.

Happy Sunday, friends!

kicking off anniversary staycation

July 11, 2020

It’s anniversary week! Tradition bears that we spend at least part of it at alone the farm, soaking up summertime romance. Late yesterday afternoon, Handsome signed off from his Commish duties until one week from Monday. Ten days off, very hard earned, wahoo!!

Ten days at the farm after 118, ha! Despite the obvious jokes about quarantine sameness and farm work being constant and a general inability to halt certain routines, we are pretty excited. This time together has historically been a special time to reconnect and recharge. I love it. I love him. I love us.

Day One:

Johnny Ringo the nursing cat makes cuddling an extreme sport.
LLM is baaing and approaching more bravely.

We slept until 5 a.m., drank coffee with Little Lady Marigold, and went to Walmart for pool chemicals and a few groceries. We also sketched out a list of random lists we want to share with you guys, to document our 19 years of marriage. We promise it will be just as boring as it sounds.

Midday, Handsome got the mowing done while I grabbed an hour of exercise (a mix of treadmill and gym today, while watching gardening videos). We swam at high noon, exchanged a couple of fun gifts, then retreated to the air conditioning when our skin hurt.

Handsome surprised me with this colorful area rug he knew I was loving.
Klaus immediately claimed it.

I got to enjoy an afternoon Zoom with my family to discuss Where the Crawdads Sing. So fun! And I appreciate our baby sister Gen for gifting copies of the book to everyone. Really generous! That’s the book review I recently promised, by the way, so if that interests you please stay tuned.

How fortunate are my siblings and I that we are all friends, and that our parents will join us in reading and discussing books, even during quarantine?! I just love it. They are both voracious readers. They always read aloud to us, our entire lives, and they read their own books and papers in front of us, too. It was just a very normal and constant part of life. I am super thankful that we can share it now, still, in new ways.

This evening we watched the new Netflix movie with Charlize Theron, The Old Guard. So good! Imaginative action movie with a surprisingly inspirational message toward the end. We both loved it, and I hope it is becoming a series.

How about one quick piece of salad advice before closing up for today? Instead of adding toppings to the top of your bowl of leafy greens, start with them. That makes them bottomings, I suppose. It makes all the difference!

Just get a much bigger bowl than you think you need, ok? Tonight I assembled a pile of chopped sweet peppers, cucumbers, and gorgeous garden tomatoes, also some cooked chicken breast, and let it all sit in the fridge with balsamic vinegar. While I cooked Handsome’s dinner, it all became extra cold and flavorful. Then I just piled it high with greens and mixed it up. So much better this way! The tomato juice and balsamic provided more than enough slickness and moisture to skip dressing, and all the chunky bits were findable with my fork. Like treasure.

One more story: Just before the golden hour while I was folding laundry from the clothesline into a big basket, my industrious and forward thinking husband tried to remove some very full fly traps (the water bag kind) into sealed trash bags, but one of them fell and burst. It was, even from a good distance, easily the most startling and psychologically unsettling odor I have ever smelled. EVER.

To his credit, my man stayed calm and cleaned it up quickly. But much more than a whisper of the offense remains. The llamas are sad now. The tomato vines wilted. The cats are in a frenzy over the smell, but they are too young to know why. I fear the Little Lady Marigold will take this personally, because it happened so near where we have been making such progress with intimacy.

Back inside, we almost got into an argument over who was yelling too much or stifling their yells or what, because in the midst of it all a worried, newly homeless fly tried to burrow in my ear while I was delivering leftovers to the chickens. I did not handle it well.

Staycation is going great! See you tomorrow!

“The man who does not read good books
has no advantage over the man
who can’t read them.
~Mark Twain
XOXOXO

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