Lazy W Marie

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

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lots of random updates including a wedding photo & a recipe

My sweet parents joined us at the farm on Wednesday night for dinner and just catching up. I made my version of all-day Indian food, which amounts to Tikka Masala made with boneless chicken thighs (soaked for hours in spiced, full fat Greek yogurt), several large discs of garlic naan bread (I definitely overcooked a few of them), some steamy jasmine rice, and heaps of garlic-roasted broccoli. We ate well, enjoyed much needed conversation, and laughed so much. During dessert (simple brownies) we watched the kids’ wedding video and photo slideshow, and Handsome and I told them lots more stories from their third grandchild’s wedding. They laughed and wept and smiled the whole time. It was hard and strange for none of the bride and groom’s grandparents to attend (due to covid restrictions), but as always my parents just rolled with it. They were happy to see everything in photos and hear about all the details and special moments. They celebrated with us as if they had been there. Nothing but love and support.

How wonderful to have my parents here, near me, alive and healthy and engaged in life. I look around and see so many friends who don’t have their parents or who don’t have this kind of warmth with their parents, and it only deepens my gratitude. Mom and Dad have walked us through so many chapters in life, many of them easy breezy, many of them terrifying and uncertain. They just don’t shy away from anything. And they’re lots of fun.

Here is a photo of Jess and me at her wedding. I cried thousands of happy tears that weekend, just overwhelmed by and speechless from the deepest joy, very much like when she was born. Around the moment this photo was taken, she said, “Mom I think you’re gonna dehydrate.”

Okay.

I finally ordered most of my garden seeds, whew! They will begin to trickle into my turqouise mailbox over the next few weeks, and I will use the broad tables and bright windows in the upstairs Apartment to give them the best possible start in life. I have also begun the annual Clearing of the Oak Leaf Ocean outdoors, which is easily the most laborious precursor to the growing season. Also one of the most exciting jobs, because it means winter is literally being swept away. Our compost bins are all full and cooking away nicely. Very ready to feed the soil.

I want to relocate our two ducks to the front coop to try out some companionship living with Johhny Cash, the lone gander. He is peaceful enough with the chickens and roosters but does seem a bit lonely since Mama Goose passed. Plus, Rick Astlee and Mike Meyers Lemon are occassionally agressive to the small hens in the south coop. I think the big girls up front have a better chance of putting them in their place. I am sure this is riveting to you. I promise to keep you updated whether you like it or not.

They used to be so small and harmless.

Also in poultry news, the girls are laying like crazy! One new hen up front is laying mint blue eggs, which is thrilling to me. Maybe I should name her Tiffany.

Handsome and I both needed a little sweet indulgence today, so I made a small pan of “Chocolate Peanutbutter Oatmeal Bars.” Here’s the easy recipe:
BASE: Blend together the butters and sugars, add the egg, incorporate flour, baking soda, salt, and vanilla, and oats. Spread dough in a prepared small, deep dish baking pan (I used mine that is just smaller than 9×13), bake at 350* for 20 minutes.
1/2 cup butter, melted to brown then cooled.
1/3 cup peanutbutter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 plain white sugar
1 large egg
tsp baking soda
pinch salt
tsp vanilla
1 c flour
1 c oats
FROSTING: Making frosting while bars bake. Just blend together 1 c powdered sugar with 1/2 c peanutbutter, add milk or cream until you get a spreadable consistency.
FINISH: When baked bars come out of the oven and are still warm, sprinkle with 1 c of chocolate chips (more if you are a happy person). As they melt, spread and smooth the chocolate gently over the top of the bars. Eventually, dollop the peanutbutter frosting on top and spread that too, then allow to set up a bit. Very good with ice cold milk.

Chocolate Peanutbutter Oatmeal Bars

A quick word about running: Over the past several months I have been rebuilding gradually and carefully, leaving extra energy on the table and being really careful about soft tissue happiness and joint mobility, also trying my best to be patient about pandemic time management, life balance stuff. And it is paying off. Yesterday I ran 12 miles for the first time in months, and it felt amazing and actually easy. I had loads of extra energy to spare, and nothing hurt. The feeling of being in tune with myself and at ease with life is just irreplaceable.

I have recently finished reading two few books that were straggling on my shelf of good intentions, and for very different reasons I am so glad to have read them:

Fear Itself: the Causes and Consequences of Fear in America (bu Ann Gordon, L Edward Day, and more, it’s a heavy research book)
The Pull of the Moon (by Elizabeth Berg)

With a little luck I will post reviews on each book this month. Have you read either one?

As I close up today, I am happy to see emails notifying me that two of my three giant seed orders have shipped. I might celebrate by eating another cookie bar and doing a few yoga stretches, because no running today.

Have you every been in a cult?

Over and out!

Don’t join a cult.
Just grow a garden
and bake something.
Maybe go running.
XOXOXOXO

first friday 5 at the farm of 2021

ONE: Our new year has started with lots of shakeup to the routine, some very real family surprises, and plenty of coffee. Everything was good and solid. And then on Wednesday the ugliness at our nation’s Capitol. What I feel, though? What I feel deep in my bones is this unlikely thrill of victory and resilience, despite the lunacy and violence. Like so many other times in life, specifically so many dots on the timeline last calendar year, I feel excitement about what we as humans can endure, reframe, and use as kindling for a brand new fire. So many new fires growing everywhere, warming us and burning away the deadwood. Love wins.

Late last year I heard a podcast that touched on the idea of “resiliency data points.” It was actually about running injury recovery and bouncing back from disappointing races, but it sank into my heart for bigger reasons. You know the devastation when life comes crashing down and new crises constantly threaten to destroy our hardwon peace and equanimity? We all experience that. Sometimes, even, the most secure strongholds are shaken or removed completely. And yet, we are still here. We continue to discover new markers for growth and endurance in all areas of life. That’s what I mean about victory and resilience. Despite it all, we are more than surviving; we are quietly thriving. Maybe because of it all, we are getting stronger and more centered, less distractable from what matters most, more pliable and reflexive, more generous, laser focused on Love.

Thanks for allowing my mixed metaphors, always.

TWO: Bean is the sweetest, smartest beggar. He is also getting faster and stronger every single week. Noone flies and sprints like he does! His eyes, both the blue one and the green one, sparkle with energy and happiness. We gave him his very own tetherball for Christmas, mounted on a pole and everything in his very own backyard, and he tore it down within a few days, ha! So strong.

THREE: Okay, are you eating enough plants? Are you moving enough, and maybe in new ways that might surprise you? What are you reading these days, and how are you feeding your soul? I need lots of warming foods, nourishing books, freedom running, and time working outside to feel like myself. Life is affordng me plenty of it all lately, for which I am so thankful.

FOUR: We have secrets and surprises brewing at the farm, friends, and I am good at neither. This buildup of Love is more than enough to keep the bad news in perspective.

FIVE: One quick story before I wish you well on this cold and hopeful Friday: I saw a man wearing a plain black covid mask. He removed it for an unknown reason, revealing his beard. His beard was very short, closely groomed to his face, more like unnaturally black pencil shading really, and with precise edges, in exactly the same shape as the mask he had just removed. I kid you not. It was like the mask had left its shadow in the form of facial hair?? I could not stop looking at this. He caught me staring, trying to figure this out, and I am pretty sure he smirked, like finally his joke on the world landed on an unsuspecting stranger with a weakness for people watching. I had to take a deep breath and pivot my shoulders forty five degrees away from him to break the trance. The End.

Remember you already prayed about this.
It’s going to be okay.
XOXOXOXO

headlines & themes this week

Around the Farm:

The animals are enjoying our mild weather. The horses, llamas, and Little Lady Marigold, our timid and solitary sheep, are all snoozy and calm. They watch the skies change and graze to their hearts’ content. Our two geese still wander free, and I love this very much. They nest anywhere they want to and do little damage. Klaus has not murdered them, not even once. The chickens are rewarding us for the nice weather (as if we are responsible for it) with heavy, thick-yolked eggs, shells in every color from tan to heavy brown and a blue-mint green. Do you remember Zoom, our little quarantine hatchling? She has outgrown Zsa Zsa now, and clearly Zsa Zsa, a fancy Polish girl, was just her surrogate mother. Zoom is growing quickly into a picture perfect Auraucana. For our Pacino devotees, please rest assured that he is still wildly happy living outdoors in the South Coop. One red hen in particular keeps him company on a daily basis, and often six or seven other chickens join the fun inside his private quarters. It’s fine. It’s fine!

While plenty still remains and is thriving, I have been ripping out exhausted remnants of the summer gardens, making space for what comes next. Today the boys and I walked through Scissortail Park then did a little easy shopping around town, and I brought home a good amount of mums, pansies, ornamental cabbage, and a few other fun perennials. I did hold off on buying pumpkins until Jess and I can explore together.

We closed and covered the pool yesterday. September 19th is a respectable date for punctuating a long, happy swim season. We are okay with it. Do we love summertime so much and still crave a trip to a beach somewhere on the Gulf? Yes. Yes of course we do. But how wonderful that we enjoyed the pool and deck for so many happy months of this very weird year. And since the end of melty heat and intoxicating coconut oil and chlorine also means the beginning of cool, crisp walks outside and longer bonfires, then the task at hand is to count our blessings and pleasures. This is almost always the task at hand.

The yurt is fully built now and about ready for a floor inside. We are leaning toward mulch, to amplify the cedar-steam experience. Lots of friends and family have already visited to do a little socially distant painting on the exterior covering, and we are in love with it all. Just look at this cute brother-sister duo!! The Whitley crew added lots of color and love to this project, for which we are so thankful. They are all very special to us.

Seasonal Shift:

Our temperatures and humidity have dropped, and the leaves are changing just so delicately, so gently. We have opened the house windows several times and are planning a few repairs and beautification projects around the house to caplitalize on the comfortable afternoons. Personally, although I did bake pumpkin bread once, I resist diving straight into cold weather anything, because I know that soon enough it will be plenty cold for longer than we like. I have my feet planted pretty firmly in this transition season, determined to enjoy all the in-between beauty that comes with it. Lots of ease, lot of fresh air, in every sense of the expression. A long, fruitful pause between extremes.

Read, Watch, Listen:

There is a lot to be said for good communication, for granular expression, as Bree Brown says. I listened to her podcast episode on emotional literacy and ended it feeling challenged to sit more comfortably with my feelings and then to express them more clearly, more effectively. I ended it deciding to answer my husband better when he asks are you ok. I also decided to start finding more specific ways to discover how my people are doing.

Brad and Steve honestly have the best material. I cannot get enough. Their podcast episode on burnout and the pandemic was so helpful. Give it a listen. I have a whole post in draft, outlining how it impacted me. How are you doing, on the burnout barometer?

I am almost done reading To Shake the Sleeping Self. It is the memoir of a young man who, together with an acquaintance from work, took a nearly spontaneous bicycling trip from Seattle all the way down to the tip of Patagonia. It has inspired me, certainly, for both physical endurance challenges and for deeper self exploration, but also to travel more and to travel better. Going off beaten paths, meeting more people, seeing unseen places and rediscovering new beauty. I just finished a chapter where they stopped in Moerlia, Mexico. This is a town in the mountains with which Jessica’s boyfriend Alex is intimately familiar. I love hearing him describe the culture there. It’s nothing like the tropical, touristy slice of Mexico we experienced on our honeymoon (though wow that is beautiful too).

Have you considered the Netflix series called Ratched? We are big fans of American Horror Story, and this is a similar viewing experience. We binged it this past week, and I think it made Saturday night popcorn taste even better than usual. Dark! Dark and adult. Not for kids, in case you were wondering.

Are you following Morgan Harper Nichols yet? Because if you are a living, breathing, feeling, evolving, hurting, or otherwise hungry human being, then you sould. She is easily found and propogated on Instagram, but she has a strong presence pretty much everywhere I look. Bob Goff even interviewed her recently! Gorgeous. Noursishing. Makes me cry and makes my mouth water all the time.

And then this short essay on a beautiful, anxiously aging woman, I ran across it on Facebook:

How many years of beauty do I have left?” she asks me.
How many more do you want? Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.
When you are 80 years old and your beauty rises
in ways your cells cannot even imagine now
and your wild bones grow luminous and ripe
having carried the weight of a passionate life.
When your hair is aflame with winter
and you have decades of learning and leaving and loving
sewn into the corners of your eyes
and your children come home to find their own history in your face.
When you know what it feels like to fail ferociously
and have gained the capacity to rise and rise and rise again.
When you can make your tea
on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon
and still have a song in your heart.
Queen owl wings beating beneath the cotton of your sweater.
Because your beauty began there
beneath the sweater and the skin, remember?
This is when I will take you into my arms and coo
YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING
you’ve come so far.
I see you.
Your beauty is breathtaking.
~Jeanette Encinias

Find more poetry by Jeanette Encinias here.

People:

Jess and Alex invited us to their house for dinner Friday night. Jess set the table beautifully and spent several hours preparing us a gorgeous, delicious meal. It was part belated birthday fun for Handsome, part just touching base with each other. We took Klaus along, and he and Bean partied hard while the rest of us did not cheat at cards whatsoever, despite the rumors.

During our cards game, Alex got a phone notification about the passing of Justice Ginsburg. It is just so sad, and her life was so truly humbling and inspiring. We had one more good conversation about this with the kids, in a long line of good conversations. They are two of the smartest, most thoughtful people I know. We are so happy to spend time with them, watching them sort out their beautiful lives and express themselves. I think that I will always remember sharing that moment in history with them, at their dining room table.

This collection of short tributes to Ruth Bader Ginsburg is worth reading. What a legacy. We will all be watching our collective love for her grow over time.

Final Thoughts for the New Week:

The world is changing, we are all feeling it. But the world is as beautiful and magical as it is broken. We are every bit surrounded by miracles ready to happen and dazzling grace as we are burdened by tragedy, difficulty, and grief. We are not robots. We get to creatively choose how we respond to every single detail, even the curveballs. Especially the curveballs! We get to take hold of our own energy and make something breathtaking with the gifts we are given, which are numerous.

Hang in there. Write some Senses Inventories this week. Reach out to your people. Drink more water. Exercise in a new way. Take it all in. Count your blessings and register your pleasures, and if you’re in a dark place, know that things always turn around.

“Fight for the things that you care about,
but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.”
~Ruth Bader Ginsburg
XOXOXOXO

small changes, big miracles

Even before Labor Day weekend, when Oklahoma was still hot and scratchy and humid, when we were still slow paced and sticking to ourselves in that humid, chlorine scented, bare ankles kind of way, the wild sumacs turned a purplish magenta. It was the first, brash signal, found mostly on hidden trails. Everything else was still the solid, lush, emerald green and as hot as the Amazon.

Then on September 8th, on the evening of Jocelyn’s 25th birthday, a cold front moved through. Temperatures dropped sharply as daylight faded, and the sky let loose buckets and buckets of truly cold rain, like so much pent up emotion. Our dear friend lost one of her dear friends. We all cuddled up at our respective homes, hoping for and trusting in The Very Best Possibilities. Handsome and I ate ate bowls of cozy comfort food and watched a show about surviving in the Canadian Arctic. Alone, together.

Now, after just two days of this premonitory autumn cold shoulder, the Elm trees are yellowing brightly to catch up with the sumacs, so many leaves now confetti-strewn across the back field. Oaks are soon to follow. And the sedum is blushing into that dusty lavender brown. Armfuls of sunflowers and hydrangea blooms look heavy with their burdens of rain, and faded, but still plenty full of secrets and surprises.

This weather is a shift for all creatures great and small. Llamas go insane, especially Meh. Honeybees rally around their queen. Hens lay eggs again. Klaus relishes the fifty-five degree days and remembers how to sprint and chase down semi feral forest cats. Once again he spends his energy in great, lusty bouts, untamable, and then is content to snooze between missions, this pattern on repeat, all day long.

These are the transition days. After so many years here (13!), this is all finally more familiar to my body and spirit than all of my previous autumns, all those childhood years of football games and chili cook offs, all those young-family days of back to school events and late night volleyball or basketball practice. This is home and home base and we have a good, natural rhythm here. One worth keeping. This is more than some extra escape. I have unending work worth doing, and I am so thankful for it all.

How awe-inspiring, that so much can change in a couple of days, following the shift of small details quite outside of our control. How wonderful that air temperature and light differences and moisture can, together, generate so much beauty and energy.

Let’s help each other remember that the Very Best Possibilities are more than flimsy maybe ideas. They are all of the refreshing miracles we have been craving and counting on. Coming at us in the perfect time. Outside of our own doing. Just like autumn.

“Here is joy that cannot be shaken.
Our light can swallow up your darkness,
but your darkness cannot now infect our light.”
~C.S. Lewis
XOXOXO

true colors & tiny bits of happiness

“A wise man dyes events with his own color.” ~Seneca

For me this affirms the value of living authentically, of framing events and circumstances in ways that are productive, growth oriented, joy centered, and loving. Live with honest and truthfulness, sure, because we’re not talking about denial or avoidance; but do not live based in someone else’s story, someone else’s colors. We are not living that person’s life, and noone’s life is disposable. Every single one of us has a path and a purpose that is valid, worthy, and beautiful in its own right.

Just a few things to consider, friends, in case you are in the habit of dismissing your own worth or assigning your value or your understanding of the world to someone else. Own your truth. Color the world with your unique self, the fulness of it. No holding back, okay?

Best royal icing: one cup powdered sugar, one egg white, few drops lemon juice, food coloring. BAM. Perfect.

Okay.

Some quick farm news for Thursday!

First, yesterday afternoon I scoured the kitchen for leftovers and scraps then took all of it out to the front coop. Before emptying my big bowl dramatically, I tossed a pink-frosted, sprinkle-covered donut into the air. A demure little red hen hopped up and caught the sugary treat on its descent. Donut in her beak, she ran to the furthest corner of the yard and dove into it, all by herself. Made me so happy.

Second, today at 11:47 a.m. I touched Little Lady Marigoild’s head. I was, regrettably, wearing gloves, but even through that barrier I could feel the smooshy wonderfulness of her fleecy noggin. She said “BLEEEHHH” and whipped her neck a few times, but she did not run away. Progress. Major progress.

One more thing:

Do you know how old my parents are? They are I called one of them but they put me on speaker and both talk to me years old. And I love it. I love it very much.

What small details are making your day extra nice?

XOXOXOXO