Lazy W Marie

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

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come what may

Today is our nineteenth wedding anniversary!!

This snapshot was taken in the French Quarter at a very cool little artists’ walk we both love. He was refusing to let me smooch him like I wanted to. Then he grabbed me and held me up in the air. xoxo

When I reflect on the last nineteen years, my heart feels overwhelming gratitude that so much of our marriage has burned brightly with real and true passion, with romance that’s more than an undercurrent; it has been the theme, the mood, our day to day vibe. We enjoy a warm and safe, balmy, equatorial connection. I refer to brackish water a lot, meaning that we have a mix of fresh and salty water in our life. But it is almost always warm.

And when we have found ourselves swimming in the colder, more violent waters of grief and trauma, chaos and general stress, we always manage to choose each other. We are always drawn to the safety and center of us. That is an easy thing to take for granted. This magnetism is the reason young couples cannot stand to be apart. But the older we get, the more I see how powerful and beautiful it is to also consciously choose both each other and “us,” and to know that the other person will do the same.

Complimentary spirits and personalities, different gifts that make a good team, that’s real. And being greater then the sum of our parts, that’s also real.

What else is real is the history we have built together, in just nineteen quick and beautiful years. We now share almost as many memories together as apart, and I love that. We share so many dreams, still, that we will need to live to 150 at least to see them all to fruition.

As we go, though, the day to day is plenty for me. Our simplest days are my favorite.

Today after perfect coffee at daybreak and a near miss with a skunk, he oversaw our final electrician repairs while I ran at the lake. Then we fed and played with the animals together, and I started removing all the artwork from our downstairs. (He recently gifted me a gorgeous new area rug, so obviously let’s just start from scratch now.)

It will not look this way for long.

This afternoon we delivered a mattress set and picked up seats for the Batmobile then, instead of eating our anniversary meal at a restaurant, stopped at Crest for steaks and shrimp. Once home, I worked on potatoes au gratin while he chopped up ripe garden fare for fresh, warm, homemade salsa, one of his specialties.

I can’t really share every good detail, because they are innumerable. Every hour feels important. Every detail worth capturing.

Mostly, we are home together, happy. And we know that we will sleep in the same bed tonight. Then have perfect coffee together again at the next daybreak. And we know that we are both praying and trusting for the same things, our energies and intentions fully supporting each other’s needs and wants and dreams and goals. These are gifts for which I am wildly, humbly thankful.

Happy anniversary, Handsome. I love you more than ever, and I love that we are on this adventure together, even on the simplest days.

XOXOXOXO

lightning strikes again, running comfortably, clean hair, & a question

Another overnight storm, what? We did not see that one coming. The boys had been up for about an hour when I awoke to a wall-rattling chorus of rolling thunder. I rubbed open my eyes and was greeted by an extra dark upstairs hallway with strobe-light flashes of lightning. Gorgeous.

I love summer storms so much. I love the deep watering they provide, the drama, and the perfume. I especially love when they happen overnight, leaving us (and the gardens) free to soak up the heat during the day.

I am less enchanted by having our house and air conditioner struck repeatedly by such powerful bolts of lightning that electronics are ruined and mechanical apparatuses literally vaporized.

As I type this, Handsome and our electrician friend are outside making repairs. We are thankful that it is a repair we can make and that the lightning didn’t start a house fire.

This morning, to celebrate the dark skies and mild temperatures post storm, I ran seven slow, pain free miles with a nice low heart rate. This is more progress. I felt not so much as one tender Achilles or even a hint of aching feet, and my energy has stayed high all day. It feels like my body wants to run again, whereas for several weeks it was so scary or uncomfortable that I only did it here and there because I felt like I needed to, or in order to test my core strength. Now it’s a happy release again, and I am thrilled. I hope to gradually sprinkle in some short intervals and work up to a baby long run soon.

Crucial detail, if you are following along for the running injury saga: I was able to heal my body over a couple of months and regain all kinds of comfort and refreshed energy without changing running shoe style and without adding orthotics. Also I never took one one painkiller. I did trade my $1 Old Navy flip flops for more supportive flip flops from Amazon, which was a long time coming. I am only sharing this with you to say that some injuries are over-compensations and body imbalances, and we can do hundreds of things to cooperate with our bodies, rather than fight against them. Okay. That’s enough on that soapbox for today.

Related to both extravagant summertime living and running, today I washed my hair. Might not seem like a blog-worthy topic to you, but trust me. The more weird buildup you have of Sun-In, OFF bug spray, dry shampoo, mousse, chlorine, sweat, and who knows what from the farm, multiplied by how many days you wait to properly shampoo and condition your hair, equals the level of religious experience that cleaning event is. Oh my gosh. Nirvana. Valhalla. Heaven on a Monday afternoon.

Would you please feast your eyes on our baby boy now, compared to five years ago? I showed this to my husband and he asked me why would I try to break his heart?

sleepy Klaussen, 5 years apart

Here is the question, for my bibliophile friends! I love this multiple choice thought adventure. I have been daydreaming about each of the possibilities:

I choose #4 but love them all!

Okay, thank you yet again for checking in here! You guys are making this blogging streak so much fun. I love reading your comments below and in messages and social media.

Stay engaged with your life, whatever is happening. Keep focusing on and magnifying the beauty around you. Keep cultivating your relationships and let your joy grow and expand. It’s pure magic.

“Your religion is what you do with your solitude.”
~William Temple
XOXOXOXO

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