Lazy W Marie

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

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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

and so we welcome July

Hello, and happy fresh new month! According to my journal, today is our 109th day of quarantine. It has become a flexible lifestyle, one that is evolving through the changing seasons. I feel the need to document more if it all.

Handsome and I have fallen comfortably into a work-from-the-farm summertime routine. Monday through Friday, we wake up and drink coffee together just before daybreak. The animals can be very demanding, even as early as 6 a.m. So if they catch us walking around taking in the technicolor skies, odds are good that chores start early. He eventually tackles his Commish projects and teleconferences from the relative comfort of either of his two car shops. I divide my morning hours between housework and laundry, the animals and gardens, and some form of exercise. Klaus rotates between us, preferring us all three to hang out together, of course, but he does seem finally resigned to this confusing new division of labor. Having a new sheep to gently terrorize has been a nice outlet for his restless energy, ha.

Speaking of routines, starting today I am attempting a blogging streak. My plan is to post daily updates for the entire month of July then reevaluate. My long stretches of not writing have never been for a lack of happenings; it’s really that I can barely keep up! Maybe if I write a little more as we go that will help. Better than nothing, at least. Will you read along? Will you share your thoughts and life events, too? I hope so.

Yesterday we wore our masks to vote in the Oklahoma primaries. Our polling place is a local church, and their spacious auditorium was arranged nicely for good social distancing. How many more voting cycles do you think will happen under these circumstances? Some rumors suggest two more years like this, living cautiously while covid-19 rages. It’s a moment in history for sure.

Our tomatoes, blackberries, herbs, peppers, and various squashes are growing and ripening like crazy. I am seeing tiny watermelons popping up on the green vines, too. Our hens are laying between 7 and 12 eggs per day, despite the heat. We have killed two large snakes in the east coop though, so perhaps they are laying far more than I am collecting, and the snakes are just well fed.

The day lilies, hydrangeas, and hollyhocks are so thrilling this summer. I have in the past been pretty content with just massive sprays of zinnias here and there. But since those are moving slowly this year, I am more than comforted by these lush perennial displays. I am also loving the wildflowers growing with abandon out front, along The Enchanted Path. My friend Lynn suggested this photo below looks like a wildflower bridal bouquet, and I agree.

How are you faring? How is whatever stage of quarantine you are at, affecting you? Are you able to sink into summertime pleasures, or are you feeling the squeeze of confinement too much?

Thank you for all of the loving messages after yesterday’s blog post, about our difficult family news. As it feels right, I will share them with my girls. Many of you already understand what a complicated and difficult situation this already was. Prayers and Love and grace will soothe everything in time.

Please take care of yourself! Be well, physically and emotionally. Know that you are loved and needed in this world. And thank you for checking in here. See you tomorrow!!

XOXOXOXO

quarantine farm facelift & a love letter to my man

When you pull up to our east facing front gate, you will now see giant, three-dimensional acrylic letters, cobalt blue, on the left. They spell out “Lazy W” and our house number. On the right you will see a vertical field of silk flowers, a happy remnant of Jessica’s thoughtful Mother’s Day gesture. (Their accompanying hand painted banner was at risk from high winds and is now safely tucked away in the Apartment.)

Pulling through the gate and up the gravel driveway, you may notice that the front field, previously the buffalo field, then a sandy, barren expanse, is now voluminous with wildflowers, native prairie grasses, and baby trees. We decided to allow Nature to mostly have her way here, and she is doing so with abandon. One detail we have contributed to this area is a meandering, three or four -foot wide walkway, just brush-hogged into the landscape. We call it “The Enchanted Path” and hope that people will gradually use it for prayer and meditation walks. I stroll there a few times every day, at different times, and it is lovely. Having a gently maintained path with a variety of visual destinations also helps me focus my flower planting strategies, if Mother nature ever needs a boost, ha!

Across from here is the Curves and Edges meadow along the south side of the gravel drive. It is growing more lush, too. Handsome continues to mow the line crisply, allowing smooth grass on one side and all manner of texture and depth on the other. Several weeks ago we spent an entire afternoon planting lots of clumping bamboo in the midst of the baby pine trees here. We are dreaming of a somewhat controllable, evergreen, living screen.

The big barn welcomes you next with an onslaught of colorful artwork, part of Handsome’s old hubcap collection, and salvaged signs. In its shadow is our pumpkin and watermelon patch, all grown from seed, and thriving so far in early June.

Around the house is a moderately filled flower bed then my truly beloved herb garden. It expanded this year, and I love it. My heart is especially happy about the bronze leaf fennel, lemon balm, mammoth dill, and cinnamon basil. A respectable stand of jalapeno plants hiding in the herb garden is just now putting on white blossoms, so that has my attention too.

If you were a regular at the farm before covid-19, this is where you will probably notice some of our quarantine work: Handsome designed and built a gorgeous new raised wooden walkway from the kitchen patio to the pool deck. We painted it black then surrounded it with river rocks, which is something we have wanted to do for years. The effect, in my opinion, is gorgeous. It is welcoming, substantial, and relaxing. I walk here dozens of times every day and have yet to tire of the views. You step onto the boardwalk and are firmly pulled toward the gardens and people areas there beneath the oak trees. He did such a good job on this project. I cannot overstate how much I love it!

The shade garden is more spacious and cleared out this year, at least for now, and this makes it easier to see the little smokehouse, which has a decidedly more cottage feel than before. After some serious decluttering inside (mostly 13 years’ worth of thrifted garden supply storage), we tore off the Virginia Creeper vines and canvas sheets then added secondhand windows or framed Plexiglas to all four sides of the building. We beefed up the lumber trim around the windows and painted all of the woodwork a bright white. We have more work to do here, but just having it excavated and clean, and just beginning the facelift on the outside, is really exciting. It certainly fuels our imagination for how to use this sweet little cottage going forward.

cottage facelift in process

You should see this shady area at the golden hour. Sunlight swords it way uphill from the west and through the tree limbs, and the pond is illuminated and visible now through the cottage windows. The scene is even prettier if we have been burning a fire, as smoke clings to the light and lays itself out in great, flat sheets of suede across the quiet space.

Speaking of bonfires, next time you are here, you might see that the fire pit is now encircled with a mix of concrete, square pavers, and river rock. It extends the invitation to be barefoot and cuts down on weeds and mud. We love it.

All these weeks of quarantine have been satisfying, for the work we have done. And it has been humbling. It has all been a labor of very real love. Love for each other, love for our friends and family who gather here. Love for our home and the many gifts we enjoy.

For the 60-plus completed projects during this season, my husband truly deserves most of the credit. He worked with passion and inspiration, and he was tireless, week after week, bulldozing his way through one task after another, all the while officing from the car shop to uphold his Commish duties and then some.

Visitors will look around and see some of the improvements I described above. And we hope you love them! I look around and also see the less noticeable projects, the ones that show the love my husband has poured out onto nearly every square foot of these nine acres. I see fence lines and gates he has recently tightened, reconfigured, and made more usable, more beautiful. I see two giant new compost bin sets, six additional boxes in total, which make my manure obsession hobby so much easier. I see better decking, more comfortable seating, a fun tetherball (!!!), and a crustal blue swimming pool which does not happen automatically. Our cars are in tip-top shape, and he and his Dad are making measurable progress on the Batmobile. I see our hot tub: One day he emptied, relocated, cleaned, and refilled it. Then he rebuilt the privacy wall around it and fixed the cover. I see our fat, happy horses and productive chickens, our deeply mulched gardens (20 bags of mulch was my Mother’s Day surprise), and feral cats who have become the sweetest things you will ever cuddle. I see our spoiled rotten guard dog who really likes helping his Dad during business hours. None of this would happen without his ongoing attention and generosity.

All these weeks have been such a gift, for more than the obvious reasons. After some gritty and fruitful wrestling matches with my own ego, I am stunned and wildly satisfied by all of it. Really thankful. Hopefully my workhorse of a husband is, too.

We cannot wait for things to feel safe and normal again, so we can open the farm more freely. We have done much of this for you, too, friends.

“Fixed the Newel Post!”
-Clark Griswold
XOXOXOXO