Lazy W Marie

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

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daughter dreams, blackberries, & wellness habits

Last night I dreamt that Jocelyn came home. It was a happy, lighthearted dream. Bridget was with her, and everything felt natural and smooth. Fearless. Complete. It was so seamless with reality that waking up required a few minutes of unraveling. Sometimes when I have dreamed about the girls during a long separation, I am emotionally wrecked for a while, at least for the day. This time, all day today, I have felt a new kind of buoyancy. I believe in my bones that the right time is fast approaching for us to reunite in a meaningful way. As exciting as that is, I am in no hurry. I most of all want it to be right for her.

At one minute past 6 a.m., Klaus and I slipped outside to watch the morning take hold. Though cloudless at that hour, the sky was visibly dome like, its pastel spread dazzling and saturated with humidity. We launched into the front field, taking every curve of the new Enchanted Path. The mown-flat walkway was dewy, the ground both hard and spongy, yielding, the feathery native grasses as high as my shoulders now, begging to be touched. Wildflowers continue their bloom display, and I am ready to scatter more seeds.

The moon hung on the southwest corner of the farm, waning by almost a quarter on this 117th day of quarantine. It drew me over to the horses, who arrived yawning and snuffling for breakfast. They will need extra fly spray today.

The squash blossoms were already awake, riotous, trembling with dozens of industrious honeybees. No monster vegetables to harvest yet this morning, but having unburdened the vines this week, and having fed and watered them, we will find more soon.

We fed the front coop flock and collected seven heavy eggs, three of them so recently produced they were still hot to the touch. By the time we meandered back around the house to feed Romulus and his fleecy companion, Handsome had stepped outside. The workday was about to begin in earnest. Every bird, both wild and domestic, was roused and singing.

On my run a few hours later (mostly trails, very sweaty, supremely refreshing), I saw the local high school Cross Country team warming up. This always reminds me of Jocelyn and the one year she was able to run for McGuinness. She is such a talented runner, a natural athlete. I wonder if she knows that a big part of why I started running was to feel modestly connected to her during our longest separation.

Also on my run, I saw a middle aged woman (younger than me but not my much) and a teenaged boy. They had stopped running, both leaning over, hands on knees. I had the distinct impression of either a recent or an impending vomit event. I slipped an earbud out of my greasy right ear and asked the pair, because I couldn’t really tell who was suffering more, “Are you ok?” The woman answered with a weak but warm smile, “We’re just having a pep talk.” We nodded briefly at each other, and I ran on. I wondered actively for the next 3 miles who was giving and who was receiving said pep talk. Mostly I was happy they had each other. My own pep talks are always just between me and myself and it can make me feel crazy.

This big bowl of sweet, ripe, perfect black berries is poised and ready for either a cobbler or a syrup recipe or maybe some jelly. What would you do with them? I am amazed by the productivity of my two little vines this year. And I eat them constantly while gardening! This is just what actually made it to the fridge.

I have been thinking lots about a “Wellness Toolbox” concept, and I hope that soon you will join me in a long conversation about that. Today, though, in case you need it, I want to share a list of fundamentals offered by Steve Magness, author of both Peak Performance (which I have purchased but not yet read) and The Passion Paradox, which I devoured this past winter alongside Atomic Habits (different author). Magness imparts some very adaptable wisdom that has been especially useful to me during this weird and shifting pandemic season. Here are notes from my journal:

Take what you want, leave what you don’t. But I believe that most of us can benefit from these fundamental habits, no matter what the unknowns are:

  1. Focus on what you can control.
  2. Move your body regularly.
  3. Spend time in nature.
  4. Lower expectations.
  5. Create a routine.
  6. Practice optimism grounded in reality.
  7. Mood follows action.

Friends, thank you for your tomato recipe ideas yesterday! I shared a few pounds of especially pretty ones with our new neighbors, and I am excited to dive into some for our own pleasure, too.

Happy Thursday night!!

I want to remain all my life
a devout lover of reality
while seeking Spirit
XOXOXOXO

the rice story, tomato abundance, & lil lady marigold

Wednesday evening already? How has your work week been so far? Ours has been various and roller-coastery, which has become the norm, of course. But our main gig is counting blessings. They are multiplying hourly.

Mid-morning today I enjoyed a short run at the lake and listened to Bob Goff’s podcast. In the midst of encouraging his listeners to Dream Big and to see ourselves as citizens of the world, he shared a story about a church experience in India. At the front of the room the pastor had displayed two large jars holding rice. Apparently the members were accustomed to either taking one handful of rice (enough for a day’s eating) or leave the same amount. It was always a one-handful transaction. Giving or receiving, one little bit at a time. Whether you need a little bit or have excess to share.

Starting right where we are. One effort at a time, releasing some of the pressure to build an empire, even an altruistic one, overnight. It has been echoing in my heart all day.

And how’s this for another expression of dreaming big? A few sentences from Cold Mountain again:

“But, too, she had long since grown impatient with Adam and Hetty and the rest and would have quit the book but for the fact that she had paid so much for it. She wished all the people of the story to be more expansive, not so cramped by circumstance. What they needed was more scope, greater range. Go to the Indes, she directed them. Or the Andes.”

Tomatoes just jump into my arms when I walk past the garden! How would you use these in your kitchen? Ahhh the colors. The flavors. And every one of them has such incredible texture. Zero mush here, sir. No weird watery grocery store tomatoes, ok, because these are summertime garden fresh heirloom tomatoes. The bright yellow ones are actually called Lemon Boy, and they are already ripe at this color. I am craving a Parmesan-and-pastry tomato pie, maybe fried green tomatoes soon, too. Handsome and Jessica have both promised to play around with making salsa. Cannot wait. What else??

I sowed a few packages of seeds today, where those old squash vines had failed: okra, zinnias, and beets. No worries about that small loss, though, because dozens of other squash vines are still thriving and producing food. I harvested a 56-ounce zuchinni today! That is three and a half pounds! Most of the raised beds got a good dose of compost plus deep watering. The sunflowers should be opening any second now. The moon is waning.

Little Lady Marigold watches me all day. She moves around her sectioned off shady yard and just stares and head butts the air and occasionally bleats, gently. I asked her today if she wanted to swim in the pool with us. She ran away.

Are you reading anything you’d like to recommend? Specifically, do you have any daily devotionals on your radar, that are good and nourishing? I am in that market.

Happy Wednesday night, friends. Over the next few days I have a book review, a recipe, and some other fun stuff to share. Take care.

Cheers to being more expansive
XOXOXOXO

beauty just as it is

858 new coronavirus cases in Oklahoma. While my husband and I recently tested negative and have been severely limiting out interactions with anyone other than quarantined family, this statistic has our attention. We learn daily of more and more positives in our immediate circle of friends and colleagues, many of them at risk for serious reasons. This is far from a hypothetical problem in our world. I know and love people who have been sick for weeks, for months, and are homebound because being in public, or even with close friends and family, is too risky. What underscores all of the statistics, though, is the fact that Jessica works in a hospital, so near to the virus, day after day. I do not comprehend the nonchalant attitude so many people are displaying.

Let’s talk about something else.

This afternoon I tackled the raised bed project I mentioned in yesterday’s post. As a karmic reward, I walked away with one of the heaviest and most luscious tomato hauls of the summer so far. The jalapenos are about ready, so I hope to try my hand at roasted salsa this weekend.

Little Lady Marigold came all the way up to me for her breakfast! I couldn’t believe it. She was so bold and friendly. Had I not slept late this morning and felt pressed to finish my chores in order to run my miles before lunchtime, I could have sat there with her all day. Her fleece is still messy and wild looking, but I kinda love it. I also love her awkward, little bleaty voice. “Bleehhhuuu!”

The mural garden is out of control in the best way.

Maybe it was the vote of confidence from my doctor yesterday, maybe I just needed to know I wasn’t doing any damage to my body, but today was the first time in quite a while that I ran 8 miles effortlessly. It felt truly easy. Comfortable. I feel like it is a good beginning.

Have you sampled that podcast yet, called The Anthropocene Reviewed? I enjoyed another episode, this one about sunsets and beauty just as it is and also The Great Gatsby, “Our Capacity for Wonder.” Really thought provoking, especially toward the end.

Before signing off tonight, I would love to share a little passage from Cold Mountain. The man in this story feels about music the way I feel about words, about language:

“One thing he discovered with a great deal of astonishment was that music held more for him than just pleasure. There was meat to it. The grouping of sounds, their forms in the air as they rang out and faded, said something comforting to him about the rule of creation. What the music said was that there is a right way for things to be ordered so that life might not always be just tangle and drift but have a shape, an aim. It was a powerful argument against the notion that things just happen.”

Sweet sleep, friends, Thank you for checking in.

XOXOXOXO

thunderstorms as hints that miracles are coming

Happy Fourth of July! Today is our 112th day of Covid Quarantine. Are you celebrating today and tonight? We opted for avoiding crowds, possibly driving later tonight to watch a small town fireworks display from a distance. Then tomorrow evening, part of my family will join us at the farm for swimming, sparklers, and a good outdoor meal. I am pretty excited for that. We are all good at making the most of bizarre circumstances.

Our sky last night, just before sunset, was everything we needed. I had just spoken with Jess for almost an hour, trying to absorb her grief and fresh anger and help her navigate an exponentially difficult season (is there anything easy about 2020 for my girls?). Her heartbreak is absolutely heartbreaking to me. I have not spoken with Jocelyn recently, but she too is on my mind and in my prayers constantly. As always. I know she is hurting in deep and inexpressible ways.

Last night after that phone call, Handsome and I walked around outside, looking for an Amazon delivery that was delayed, giving thanks for a million different amazing blessings. We saw bright, dense storm clouds far on the horizon. These do appear pretty often but dissipate without coming to fruition. We asked aloud for rain, saying both to each other and to God how wonderful an overnight thunderstorm would be. Then we walked some more. Then we closed up the farm, made coffee for morning, and went to bed.

I’m telling you this because God answered overnight. It was just a thunderstorm in the wee hours of the new day, a musical surprise heavy with rain and absent hail, but it was exactly what we wished for.

Sometimes I feel like small, specific answers like this are encouragements that the big ones are coming. And friends, we have some big requests right now. I imagine you do, too.

This morning I cracked open an old book I first read in my late 20’s. Not quite a devotional, it’s a daily entry style book geared toward women: Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach.

One of the passages I explored was about being purposeful in the pursuit of happiness. She writes about the differences between dreams and expectations and explains some mechanics of releasing to the God the exact results of our hard work. “Living your life as a dreamer and not as an expector is a personal declaration of independence. You’re able to pursue happiness more directly when you don’t get caught up in the delivery details.” I love that.

My workout today was split between the very very very crowded lake (so crowded I ended up leaving) and the treadmill. I felt great! Seven easy miles with a low heart rate, comfy feet and legs. You might like to know that on my drive to the lake I came upon a herd of cows blocking the road. There were at least 15 calves in the group, all teeter-tottering and scampering. As oblivious to pandemic as yesterday’s wild meadows.

The cows were easily herded into this abandoned, fenced yard.

“Drop by drop fills the tub.”
~French proverb
XOXOXOXO

our easy day off & freedom is a gift we choose to accept

Friday, July 3, 2020. Quarantine Day #111.

State offices are closed today, but our bodies don’t know that, so we woke naturally up at 5:13 a.m. Handsome, Shepp, and I spent the next two hours taking in the day slowly. We drank our coffee, watched cartoons, explored the gardens, and watered and fed the animals. Little Lady Marigold, our new sheep, made another good attempt to meet me at her breakfast bowl. She always backs off at the last second, but every day the distance shrinks. I love her slotted pupils, stick-straight legs, and puffy, matted fleece.

Temperatures were still mild in the early hours, mid seventies, and the skies were painterly blue and white. Our first harvest of the day was five eggs, 2 bright yellow squash, seven heavy tomatoes, and a few cups of ripe blackberries. There is always a second harvest in the afternoon.

Mid-morning I grabbed a 5 mile progression run on the treadmill (felt great, zero pain!) and half an hour in the gym. Meanwhile Handsome played around with the art of motorcycle maintenance. I cannot vouch for his Zen, though, because apparently my little green Honda had been sitting too long and now has a fuel line gummed up. Did I ever tell you that I got my motorcycle license? It is one of the biggest shocks of life, truly. Sometimes when I think about it I start sweating and trembling spontaneously.

We decided to break some monotony and take a short drive to Wellston, Oklahoma, just under an hour away. There is a locally famous barbecue stand there, an outdoor restaurant, really, that serves food from an old school bus.

We enjoyed the steamy drive in a topless car but declined to stop and eat because the parking lot was at capacity, swarming with people. We are distancing pretty strictly still, so that was a hard pass. Instead, we drove and drove, loving the sunshine and the undulating country roads flanked by corn fields, hay meadows neatly adorned with giant round bales, and tiny, almost delicate cemeteries. We accidentally joined up with Memorial road where it suddenly becomes heavy gravel, so we slowed way down. The careful pace allowed me to see the roadside meadows better: Vitex and Indian tobacco growing wild. Pecan and Red Bud saplings wilting in the heat. Thick ornamental grasses, tickseed, and Virginia Creeper, all tangled up and blissfully unaware of pandemic. I soaked up the rural house gardens when they appeared. Mostly orange day lilies and pink crepe myrtle bushes. I imagine they are generational perennials.

Back home again, we ate regular food from our well stocked kitchen and were perfectly happy, ha! The heat and humidity returned and our work was caught up, so we spent part of our afternoon in the pool and on the deck.

I finished reading Cold Mountain, the Civil War novel that many people remember as the movie with Nicole Kidman and Jude Law. The book is beautifully written, a weirdly motivating read if you like manual labor and general human suffering, or the perseverance through suffering. And it is so humbling. The circumstances people can survive, it just amazes and inspires me.

“That’s just pain, she said. It goes eventually. And when it’s gone, there’s no lasting memory. Not the worst of it, anyway. It fades. Our minds aren’t made to hold on to the particulars of pain the way we do bliss. It’s a gift God gives us, a sign of His care for us.” ~Charles Frazier, Cold Mountain

“Waste not thy liberty.” One of my all time favorite, short and sweet mantras. Tomorrow is Independence Day. I have been thinking a lot about freedom lately, about being free, about being set free from all kinds of earthly bondage.

As a thought experiment lately, every time I catch myself saying or thinking that I have to do something, my goal is to replace it with I get to do something. It’s a small but powerful word swap. I have been liberated and set free from so many things, so many hardships and limitations, so much silencing, so many real fears. Not only am I free in the political or social sense; but more importantly I am free spiritually, psychologically, and emotionally, so long as I continue to choose that state of living. My thoughts and habits can either cultivate or surrender this gift every day.

Liberty is not the wild absence of discipline; in fact being free invites a more authentic version of self rule. Being free from outside controls requires and encourages us to set our own controls, some that make sense and are harmonious with our values and circumstances. At least that’s how I see it.

Okay I hope you are well, thank you for reading! I also hope we have popcorn for dinner soon and watch a movie.

One more thing, what do you think would happen to a person’s body if she were to only eat watermelon and cashews? I mean, mostly those two things?

“I am full of freedom.”
~Kellie Sperry
(I owe you this story soon, friends!)
XOXOXOXO