Lazy W Marie

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

  • Welcome!
  • Home
  • lazy w farm journal
You are here: Home / Archives for gardening

late summer garden care & self care

July 31, 2025

Hey friends! How are you, and if you are growing a garden this summer, how’s that going? I’m feeling better than I have in a long time, thanks truly for asking, and my gardens are surprising me daily with their resilience and beauty. Nothing is perfect. Not life, not my tomatoes, certainly not my fruit trees; but all of it is more miraculous and more deeply satisfying than I sometimes dare to dream.

((Chanta, age 26, and Klaus age 10, overseeing my greenhouse activities.))

The other day I was giving some thought to late summer best practices in the garden. I have the immense pleasure and privilege of guiding Jessica through her own growing adventures, though she needs me less and less these days, and I want very much to save her from the common overwhelm gardeners tend to experience this time of year. So I distilled my thoughts into five points and readied them for sending.

As I read over my advices, it occured to me that all the wisdom I would hope to share with a fellow gardener also applies neatly and unironically to just people. Self care, as it turns out, looks a lot like gardening.

We are tending things, after all. We are tending our relationships and our health, both physical and emotional. We are tending our communities and careers and more. Cultivating, just like we do outside. Planting new seeds some days, watering, fertilizing, pulling weeds, pruning, rearranging. I love the reminders that human beings are not machines; that we have different and shifting needs day to day, just like the garden does.

Let’s go.

ONE: Water Deeply. Insted of sprinkling water on just the surface of the soil, water the roots deeply and gently. Do it in the evening if possible, when the temperatures have been dangerously hot, so your plants can spend the nighttime moving that moisture around and greet the new day refreshed. Then water again the next day if needed. Without overwatering, just make sure your plants are fully hydrated. Similarly, if you are in a hard season of life, I think going deep on a regular basis with what refreshes you is important. Read scripture if that’s precious to you. Read anything that centers and cools you on a cellular level. Choose to actually read instead of scroll the internet. Reach for the dopamine that counts, is what I try hard to remember. Spend meaningful amounts of time with people who help you feel as close to heaven as possible. Do work that is uniquely satisfying, all the way to your roots. Shun the cheap, easy, surface stuff. It will train your roots too close to what will kill them.

TWO: FEED. Take time in August to feed your plants, especially your vegtables. All that deep watering can leach the soil of good nutrients, and growing and producing food takes lots of energy. I add gorgeous black farm compost between and among my plants all throughout the growing season. I also feed myself well, too, especially in hard times. Not just comfort food, but all the things that I know will actually help my mind and body cope wth whatever is going on. Nutrition keeps us strong and resilient when we are overtaxed, and the right foods and supplements keep us productive.

THREE: HARVEST & PRUNE CONSTANTLY. It’s crazy to me how easy it is to forget to collect the literal fruits of our labor. The hours and days can pass so quickly, and maintenance often seems more important. But lifiting tomatoes from the vine or cutting a joyful bouquet of flowers is not just our prize; it’s also a wonderful way to lighten the load on our plants. Make it a regualar habit to carry a basket and snips, walking around your garden cutting off fruits and vegetables, pruning suckers, topping leggy vines, and deadheading flowers. Pruning and trimming makes everything look so fresh and well kept, and it returns a shocking amount of energy to the plant rather than signaling that its life cycle has been completed. Does this resonate in other parts of your life? To me it does. I want to fully enjoy the gifts given to me, first of all, leaving nothing to rot on the vine. I want to see clearly what is being offered, day after day, every season, and accept those gifts joyfully! I also want to prune away what is finished. Remove parts of me or my routine that no longer serve the greater vision, so all that valuable energy can be reinvested. This part can be hard, because once I find a comfortable routine I am unlikely to vver off course, ha! But I have found it useful to reevaluate constantly to make sure I am choosing habits wisely, ones that serve me and my family well. Our life cycles, just as in the garden, can be either stunted or lengthened by our habits. I vote for continued beauty and abundance.

FOUR: LOOK FOR BLANK SPACE. Naturally, for a myriad of reasons, some gardens have more blank space than others. Some years do, too, some schedules and seasons. That’s natural. In my new “Summer Garden” as I have named her, there is still oodles of available growing space, mostly because back in April I carved out the beds and planted kind of in a rush. You can see all the grass between the skinny rows, below. It’s year one here, so I have spent lots of time just watching and learning her. I see gaps and opportunities, and I may still sneak in a few fast growing fall crops. In other gardens here at the farm, blank space is harder to spot, and it’s so fun to find ways to freshen up a view you’ve grown used to. The point is to look for openings and opportunities. Protect them then press them into service. Be on watch for what your imagination craves, both in your garden and in your life, and remember that you are the gardener. If you want something, figure out how to grow it. Plant the seeds. Bring it to fruition. Blank space is such a gift.

((My Summer Garden in her first year, July 2025))

FIVE: STAY ENGAGED. August in Oklahoma can be challenging, but it’s far from the end of the season. And most years, just when you think you cannot sweat through one more weed pulling chore or cry over one more grasshopper or haul the thousand pound water hose any more, the weather shifts, just enough. A new flush of tomato blossoms appears. The grass softens under a surprise rainfall. The lettuce grows sweet and bright again, and we rememeber, just like we did last August, that it was just a little while that we had to suffer. Hard times always end. Refreshment always comes. And most importantly, I try to remember that no matter what is happening in August, it is everything I dream of and long for in February. Whatever life difficulty and uphill effort is folded into dreams come true, they are still immeasurable blessings. Don’t wish any of it away, not one detail. Stay awake and enganged for it all. It will make you a better gardener, and it will set your garden far apart from what it would have been otherwise.

((lightning bug on a cucumber vine))

This is what I am sharing with my beautiful Jessica, and it’s what I would share with you if you came to my garden to chat and maybe get a pep talk. It’s also what I need to hear myself sometimes, when the endurance of a hard season slows me to a crawl.

Water your roots deeply. Feed yourself well. Collect all the gifts available to you then edit ruthlessly the parts that are dead. Look for blank space to grow new beauty. And, at all costs, stay awake and engaged.

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: gardening, gratitude, mental health, Self care, summertime

pink houses, punk houses, and everything in between

June 1, 2025

Hey friends happy June! In many parts of my brain, it still feels like early April, with the cool mornings and extended rainy season; but it is absolutely, no doubt about it, the first day of the sixth month of the year.

A few days ago I had a moment when I realized how many of the things I long for all winter are tangibly available right now. Early daybreaks, warm weather running, emerald forests, animals that are slicked off and plump, chickens laying regularly, flowers in bloom, bats hunting at dusk, frog symphonies, the pool soon opening, you name it. I realized that this is what we have been waiting for, and if I’m not careful, I will speed my way right past it all.

Hey, we went to Luther, OK, yesterday with our dear friends Rex and Cathy. The purpose of our trip was to watch their Third Annual Pinebox Derby races, and that was so fun. But on our walk back to the truck I spotted this little pink house and wanted to tell you about it.

Then when I typed pink it came out punk over and over again, and honestly, soft pink is kind of a punk choice for a house color. John Mellencamp may be have been a different genre, but this kind of bold, authentic living doesn’t lie. My friend Trisha sparked a conversation about what kind of woman lived there and chose that color. She has, “the most amazing frames to her readers, who has aged with grace and laugh lines that can tell many stories… and she definitely has a cookie recipe she only shares with close friends.” I added she also has a secret salsa recipe and might have a parrot rather than a cat or dog. Only becasue her favorite dog, years ago, was irreceplaceable.

Fixing up the house itself is a certain kind of thought experiment; but the magic you could do with plants on a place like this. Man. So, since yesterday I have been mentally landscaping this tiny property. It would have zero trumpet vine, because good grief. And it would have boxwoods, native hydrangeas, lots of white gaura and impatiens, and hyacinth bean vines on that ramp. Maybe morning glories. The bed woud be curving and deep with room for herbs and flowers and just a handful of vegetables interspersed casually. The trees would be groomed back, making room for a big chain swing loaded with pillows for reading.

You know what? She does have a dog after all. Obviously. And all her neighbors love him.

Speaking of landscaping, I am waist deep in a brand new growing experiement here at our own place. Since Handsome built me a greenhouse in March, we have sectioned off a relatively large, full sun rectangle space adjacent to it for vegetables and wildflowers. It is proving to be more of a learning curve than I expected, and the challenge has also been much more fun than I expected. If you visit us anytime soon, please remember that the “Summer Garden” is in year one, and apparently I did not inherit whatever gene allows a person to dig a straight line.

It’s punk to grow in curves, ok?

As my friend Kelly suggested, some of the swooshes could be seen as little surprises in my timeline. The way life throws us curveballs that just beome part of our story. I’ll straighten some of the edges, but for Kelly’s explanation, at least one gets to stay.

I’ve read or listened to several good books recently, plus a few great ones. They have each nourished me in a dfferent way. Now, as per my summertime usual, I am about to indulge mostly in novels. So if you have any suggestions, please drop me a line!

I have also stacked up a few decent months of running and lifting that have me feeling healithier and more free than I have felt since way before the marathon last October, and I am on track to “run the year” again, at least so far. It’s truly wild how resilient and adaptive our bodies are. I still have nothing else planned, race wise; it’s just great to feel great. I know it’s a gift. I will admit, however, that dinner last week with some running friends left me feeling inspired to set a new goal…

A few hundred other things have happened that deserve their own stories, and I may get around to that gradually. We also have a pretty full summer calendar humming at us from the wings. I hope you’ll check in, follow along, and share your stories, too.

Cheers to a brand new month with brand new pleasures and lots of work worth doing!

“And then, one fairy night,
May became June.”
~F. Scott Fitzgerald
XOXO

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: choose joy, daily life, gardening, gratitude

early spring stream of consciousness

April 3, 2025

Welcome to springtime in my brain! This post will be some kind of hybrid between a concise and unlyrical “Farm Journal Entry” and a long form, better orchestrated blog post.

Spring has sprung. The weather has shifted, the landscape has well and truly emerged from her winter slumber, and the animals are in agreement, as evidenced by shedding horses, hens laying eggs consistently, and cows giving and receiving piggy back rides. Ahem. Even the pollinators are out of hibernation and doing their buzzy, fluttery rounds. I see snakes and lizards almost daily, despite the cool nights.

((peach blossoms))

((rhett and scarletta))

Did you know we have been building a greenhouse? It’s been on our wishlist for many years, but since refitting the little brick cottage for seed starting a few years ago, I had all but forgotten about the idea. One day about a month ago Handsome announced that he had found a guy (there’s always a guy and my guy’s always finding him) with cheap greenhouse panels. So cheap we would be crazy not to scoop ’em up. So scoop we did, and the rest is history. Chalk this up to another project we have had tons of fun doing together, not to mention one of the grandest gestures of love and romance from him to me. The spot we chose for the new little Taj Majal includes a brand new full sun garden space, my first ever believe it or not! All of this deserves a detailed post, which I will write soon. Just know that it is very exciting, and it has occupied a lot of mental and energetic real estate around here all month.

((I call it my little garden chapel))

((year one for the summer garden))

The photo above is the new “Summer Garden” adjacent to the new greenhouse. This is the view from upstairs. Can you see the color difference in a few spots? I have been adding rich, black compost and shredded oak leaves anytime I can scrape out half an hour. In fact, this job might be finished by the time I post this. The space overall has been tilled, because it has never been used for growing before, and we did add topsoil. But that topsoil turned out to be mostly sand and clay, so the amendments are both necessary and fun. I love using what we have, right here at the farm, whenever possible. The pine trees are north, the greenhouse is east, and the food rows will run parallel to those fence lines you see on the left. If you look closely, you can see my favorite vintage glider couch, a gift from my Dad, fortified by Handsome, facing the west. We see the most glorious sunsets here, and I can’t wait to invite frinends to watch them, surrounded by corn and okra and wildflowers. We’ll pick a watermelon and eat it together, right there.

((starberries waking up))

One of our friends recommended the Apple TV series SIlo, but I can’t remember who. We devoured season one, and now I am recommending it to you. Normally to this type of show I say enough already with the apocalyptic stuff. We have all saturated our brains with it, you know? But this is different. There’s a fascinating element of truth supression that to me is worth the insufferable grime and short food supply, etc. Have you watched it? Thank you to whoever suggested we give it a try!

In very different emntertainment news, the current season of Shrinking is chef’s kiss, as the kids say. It has a Ted Lasso quality that makes me feel so good and strong.

On a blustery weather day recently I dove deeply into spring cleaning. Between dusting and scrubbing various negelcted spaces, I took down some heavy drapes in the living room then removed a complicated window treatment in the kitchen (imagine a pleated sheer with six wicker baskets hanging from the curtain rod, all filled with about twenty dry hydrangeas, plus disco balls hanging among them. It was an autumn choice which I do not regret but of which I had grown quite weary). The gluttonous flood of sunlight in both rooms stunned me. I had forgotten how bright the downstairs of our house could be! Now I want to paint some portion of the kitchen yellow and hang crisp white cafe curtains everywhere. Until that decision is made, I am enjoying the light, and Johnny RIngo is enjoying the cooking shows.

((I have since added very different curtains))

Speaking of Johnny Ringo, he remains Klaus’ best friend. They spend the majority of every day together, and it’s the sweetest thing ever. Twice in a week we went outside before daybreak and didn’t find him. Klaus was worried. But when we did our breakfast chores and made it around to the chicken coop, both times we found him there. Somehow Johnny had got shut in with the flock and slept there all night, ha! Also both times, the entire flock was huddled around him in the adjacent duck room, looking like a very creepy seance.

((best buddies))

I had a refreshing thought recently about springtime gardening, and I’ll share it with you in case you also berate yourself for having not yet orchestrated a lush, complex, multi-week spring display of color and texture. You know the kinds of gardens we see, right. and crave? But for the most part those gardens are installed the previous autumn, which is a busy time in a thousand other ways. I have talked to lots of gardening friends who also bemoan the lack of wherewithall in October to plant a garden we won’t see until March or April. Anyway, here is my refreshing thought: Our eyes and our spirits needs far less than we think they do. Nature herself provides so much, without our help. Just sprinkle in a few things here and there, add a little more each year, and call it mission accomplished.

Elsewhere on the farm I do have tulips splashing jellybean color on the sepia landscape and a few fruit trees and hellebores, budding hydrangeas, lilacs, and the first bright green on boxwoods and other shrubs. But this plain little scene, oak leaves and all, gets the point across, to me at least: You need less than you think you do to feel the relief of springtime. A bit of redbud, a forsythia, some daffodils here and there. Not a thousand. Not a perfect grid, either, unless that’s your thing, But for me, in Oklahoma, springtime is all about the vegetable garden. So I am very content feasting my eyes on the easy beauty of everything just waking up. At least for now. : )

((year two for these exciting grapevines))

((the pond is still low and still beautiful))

I trust nature to wake up, but every time she does I am just floored. Every perennial that appears where I had become accustomed to brown, dry earth, amazes me. When the grapevines pushed fresh buds, which then unfurled into fancy green leaves, I just about wept. The blackberries are a miracle, And I have no business collecting such well aged compost after so many months of neglect. I guess I always thought the compost heap needed a lot more complicated attention than it does. But man. We have six out of nine enormous boxes overflowing with the good stuff right now! The pines are candling, the oak trees are dressed in thousands of those chartreuse tassels, and I have a feeling my rose garden will be in bloom for Easter Sunday.

Every day I wake up with so many ideas I have to spend a few minutes consciously focusing my energy. Too much available time can be a problem, but it’s a gift once my energy is focused. I am trying to really cement a few new habits:

  • Be very choosy about what deserves my attention. This means saying no to lots of options.
  • Do something every day that cannot be easily undone, so that I am not living perpetually in maintenance mode.
  • Allow myself to be led by Joy, not fear or stress or guilt or anything else. It matters.

There’s more, friends much more. In the time it took me to upload these photos and write these haphazrd sentences, thirty other beautiful things have happened. And I haven’t even told you what’s going on at the Commish or in our family. Just like in the springtime landscape, energy is building and changes are everywhere. I can’t keep up. And I have no desire to. I am just so happy to be along for the ride.

“The war had invested me with an understanding that life is both
dangerous and fleeting and thus there is no point in denying yourself
adventure while you are still here.”
~Elizabeth Gilbert in Magic City
XOXOXO

1 Comment
Filed Under: daily life, UncategorizedTagged: choose joy, farm life, gardening, gratitude, springtime

book review: How to Grow Food, A Wartime Guide

February 2, 2025

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

4 Comments
Filed Under: book reviewsTagged: bookish, books, gardening, grow something green, grow your own, pandemic, victory gardens

an autumn afternoon in the garden with Kindergarten

October 3, 2023

We sat in the shade with half a dozen bright eyed Kindergarteners, just three women and six children that day. The October afternoon was warm and breezy, still more summer than fall, and I found myself wishing I had brought cold drinks for everyone.

The day’s lesson was about seeds and how they relate to flowers and, ultimately, the foods they become. I passed around a huge, heavy, bright orange pumpkin and several pumpkin blossoms, deep yellow and frilly, impossibly related to that massive fruit. The kids touched and sniffed and made sweet, cooing, observant sounds, their immense brown eyes fixed alternately on everything they held and then on me. I passed around stems of tomato plants, each loaded with tiny, yellow, star shaped flowers. I sliced open a few juicy tomatoes and showed them the almost imperceptible white seeds inside. We examined purple, leathery hyacinth bean pods, which they needed some encouragement to tear. The beans inside were reliably glossy black with perfect white spines. Gorgeous tuxedo gifts. I watched to make sure no one ate one, ha! But they only rolled the treasures around in their curious hands.

We scrunched the papery crumples of zinnia seed heads and shared a bouquet of those Technicolor flowers then moved on to tomatillos, which are so fun to de-husk. Tiny fingers are adept at peeling quietly, and they had fun doing it. One brave little boy volunteered to manage the Tithonia seed heads, which our fair reader may already know are famously stout and prickly when dried.

((autumn garden collection, 2023))

As the kids explored and absorbed the many details of seeing, touching, smelling, and weighing the various seeds and flowers and their final growing products, their teacher encouraged them to more fully describe everything. She asked them beautifully precise but open ended questions that produced long, effusive answers in broken, cheerful English. I almost cried a few times, and I am not sure why. Maybe it was just the pure joy of seeing such young, innocent children enjoying nature. Maybe it was the simple intimacy of so few people sitting quietly in the shade. Maybe it was the memory of being in the garden with my own girls, now twenty years past, or the possible future thrill of sitting with bilingual grandchildren, in the garden, talking about food and flowers and watching them learn everything about this immense, gorgeous world.

After a little while in the shade, we wandered over to a collection of raised beds to plant new seeds. The students used wooden Popsicle sticks to carve little furrows in the soil. They scattered the miniscule seeds, sometimes with impressive focus and sometimes with understandable abandon. Then they watered. Oh my heart. If we thought that trading roly-polies and earthworms was their favorite garden activity last week, it is only because last week we didn’t have time to do the watering. The plastic watering cans are almost half as big as many of their five year old selves. And filled with water, those had to be some of the heaviest burdens these cuties had ever carried. But not one of the kids shrank from the task. They heaved and tottered and limped from hose to bed, sploshing and sprinkling as they went. A few exclaimed and squealed about their wet school uniforms, but overall the soundtrack was giggling. Soft laughter backed by sunshine and new experiences.

We made our way through the tasks at hand and talked about how important water is for the plants and seeds to grow and be happy. The kids connected easily with the idea of being thirsty then feeling refreshed by a glass of water. One little girl named Stephanie promptly refilled her plastic can and struggled over to a kale leftover from last season. She said affectionately, almost in a whisper, “There now she’s having a drink.” The kale was taller than her, yet she insisted on watering it from as high up the green, ruffled tower as she could manage, not at ground level. She walked away soaking wet and smiling ear to ear.

We had time to marvel at some expired sunflowers, towering toward the clouds and nodding like they were asleep, dried stalks as thick as my wrist. I had the kids hold their hands out like bowls and scraped my thumbnails against the sunflowers’ sky bound faces. Dusty seeds poured out like a spell into their waiting hands, and because the lesson was all about seeds and seed planting, they knew exactly what to do. “I need my little stick!” Amy said with some urgency, her long black braids flying as she looked left and right, and when she found her tool she got right to work carving a place for those seeds. Then Stephanie watered them.

How beautiful it all is. The huge squash blossoms that become massive, flavorful, vitamin rich pumpkins. The clusters of tiny yellow flowers that, with some water and sunshine and time, become a string of versatile, delicious tomatoes. Beans! All that protein and beauty wrapped in such dense, hard little packages. Flowers for beautifying and feeding. Children for teaching and nurturing and loving.

I have been thinking more and more about the world of flowers and vegetables, all the same, fascinating photosynthesis and so much beauty and purpose. Food for the birds and pollinators, definitely, but also, beauty as a purpose in and of itself.

All kinds of flowers use their multi-faceted beauty to draw in their needed audiences. We know about the birds and the bees and how they are attracted to colors and flavors that suit them so they can get on with the business of pollination and propagation, etcetera. But this lovely afternoon with the Kindergarteners reminded me that people are included in this symbiosis, too. Plants draw us in with their beauty, whether we are conscious of it or not. Their colors and fragrances, the never ending variety of shapes and patterns and textures, all of it woos us and bring us close enough to see them face to face. Close enough to understand them better and tend to their needs so they can tend ours. What a miraculous relationship.

I believe that every time a young child experiences nature up close like that, the world is made better, safer, more aligned with its original design. Life for that boy or girl instantly gains potential for greater enjoyment, better mental and physical health, and deeper artistic experiences. And life for their entire future purview might now hold more balance, more attention, and saner systematic choices. They could grow into better stewards than we will ever be.

((circa 1978))

We take care of what we love, after all, and it is so easy to fall in love with Nature. She sees to that.

1 Comment
Filed Under: UncategorizedTagged: children, community, gardening, gratitiude, OKMGA

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • …
  • 7
  • Next Page »
Hi! I'm Marie. Welcome to the Lazy W. xoxo

Hi! I’m Marie. This is the Lazy W.

A hobby farming, book reading, coffee drinking, romance having, miles running girl in Oklahoma. Soaking up the particular beauty of every day. Blogging on the side. Welcome to the Lazy W!

I Believe Strongly in the Power of Gratitude & Joy Seeking

Pages

  • bookish
  • Farm & Animal Stories
  • lazy w farm journal
  • Welcome!

Lazy W Happenings Lately

  • late summer garden care & self care July 31, 2025
  • Friday 5 at the Farm, Gifts of Staycation July 18, 2025
  • friday 5 at the farm, welcome summer! June 21, 2025
  • pink houses, punk houses, and everything in between June 1, 2025
  • her second mother’s day May 10, 2025
"Edit your life freely and ruthlessly. It's your masterpiece after all." ~Nathan W. Morris

Archives

August 2025
M T W T F S S
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031
« Jul    

Looking for Something?

Theme Design By Studio Mommy · Copyright © 2025

Copyright © 2025 · Beyond Madison Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in