Lazy W Marie

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

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daughter dreams, blackberries, & wellness habits

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Thursday night!!

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

the rice story, tomato abundance, & lil lady marigold

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheers to being more expansive
XOXOXOXO

beauty just as it is

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

Let’s talk about something else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sweet sleep, friends, Thank you for checking in.

XOXOXOXO

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