Lazy W Marie

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

garden check in, mid august

Hello, happy mid-August, how does your garden grow?

In Oklahoma, we are already enjoying a few softer days here and there, with temperatures often below normal and rainfall above. Then the heat returns. Then it’s mild again. And again, more equatorial heat. We are challenged by army worms but blessed with butterflies and wasps and frogs and birds, and we still have the prettiest daybreaks and sunsets anywhere. The Lazy W gardens are still producing tomatoes, tomatillos, herbs, zinnias, and peppers. And seeds I have sown recently are already an inch tall. But the brightest summer colors are beginning to fade. I see it first in the hydrangeas, and they are as beautiful as old linen or well worn blue jeans.

me and my giant parsley branches…xoxo

The older I get and the longer I garden intentionally, the less I see each year as a separate event. Certainly, they do all swim together in the fast moving stream of time; but more importantly, it is all a beautiful continuum. One gardening seasons leads and contributes to the next. Last year’s failures and successes become this year’s goals and puzzles, which set the stage for next season’s main show. The flowers reseed and the perennials grow and mature. Some die. The trees change silently, imperceptibly, then all at once one day they are towering and full bodied. Our tastes evolve, building aesthetic ideals one upon the other, hopefully honing ever more clearly on what we actually want from our gardening lives.

And there is always, always something happening outside. Something I absolutely love about living here is how much quiet drama is constantly available to us outdoors. Yes, summertime is rightfully the most glorious group of months because of the exuberant food supply and almost tropical colors everywhere. But the end of summer is hardly the end of the gardening year. I love knowing that. I love feeling deep in my bones the connectedness of all these efforts and all these various months and days. The life-affirming continuum of summer that leads to fall that leads to winter that was all preceded by dozens, hundreds, thousands of repeats of the same pattern. What if I die and someone takes over my gardens here? The work I do now, the choices I make, will become that gardener’s starting point. Just as the work done here fifteen years ago started me in my adventure. Or my Grandpa! His garden, though never my own, really started it all. I digress.

summer shade garden in mid august, where the chickens play

For most of this month and next, I am following a self imposed five step plan to keep the gardens thriving and happy and prepare for the coming season. I see it in these stages: Edit, Nourish, Fast Food, New Color, and Reflect.

#1 Edit ruthlessly! This is hard for me at first then becomes deeply satisfying. I pull hidden weeds, prune overgrown, leggy perennials, shear back flowering annuals to give them a chance to bloom again, and then completely yank out the summer vegetables that are well past their primes (looking at you, Japanese eggplant). I do a little bit every day, sometimes in passing, and then I do a lot with more focus in certain areas of the farm, a few times per week. One day it will stop growing back, ha. I have developed the habit of walking around with a five gallon bucket, a pair of scissors, and a little hand trowel to make the job easy and accessible. I was so gratified to hear that my friend Dee does this too! Once I get over the emotional conflict of uprooting plants, the thrill of creating blank space for the next project is even better than emptying an overstuffed closet in the house.

tomatillos, blackberries, beans, & parsley, plus blank space…xoxo

#2 Nourish! This time of year, all the shrubs and perennials especially benefit from a generous application of farm compost. I mound it up generously and let the chickens scratch it in then water lusciously, knowing most plants can still grow, still embolden their roots plenty, before frost. I am eyeballing the beds during this task to see where I might add more structure in fall, especially some evergreens. I am also tallying up how many new bags of mulch we will need when it goes on sale soon.

#3 Fast Food: As I type this, Oklahoma still has at least 62 growing days to go, probably more like 73. That’s a lot of warm, fertile weeks! I have already been sowing seeds for fresh sweet peas, bush beans, Swiss chard, pok choi, spinach, and arugula, all quick producers. I also planted some extra zinnias just for fun, but I think Leon the rooster scratched up and ate those. It’s fine. Soon I will add more lettuces, kale, radishes, carrots, beets, and more. I am amazed by how quickly they germinate right now in this warm, welcoming soil. It’s a different experience than springtime. And what a comfort to have these things to nurture in place of the things we lose at summer’s end.

#4 New Color: Before we know it, the nurseries and hardware stores will be overflowing with a flush of new color. I am excited to add lots and lots of it to our containers and beds, and I am wide open to inspiration based on what I see and what I feel will last the longest. I sometimes begin this season with a color scheme in mind but often abandon that completely when a certain flat makes my mouth water. The only plan I will absolutely keep is helping Jessica and Alex plant their first perennial border. That is exciting! Boxwoods, hydrangeas, and spring bulbs, here we come!

#5 Reflect: Again mindful of how “this year’s” garden is simultaneously part of both last year and next year, and realizing that my memory has better things to do than memorize verities and dates with much specificity, I am resolved to journal a little more intentionally. I want to capture my satisfaction with what has gone well and capture the regrets I have or the lessons I am learning.

I will always want more and more sunflowers. Always more…xoxo

This is where I am in the gardens for now. The days pass too quickly because they are brimming with goodness. I am so happy having the flock free range. Grateful for a ribbon of affectionate cuddling with the horses. Really fascinated with the compost process. Overall, just blissing out here. Thank you for listening!

One more thing, friends: I am slowly reading a new book called The Well Gardened Mind, researched and beautifully written by psychiatrist Sue Stewart-Smith. I am gleaning just so much from its pages, I cannot wait to tell you everything. If you believe intrinsically in the value of gardening to restore and maintain our health both physical and emotional, this book will resonate with you. Here is one luscious quote for you now:

“As children, and let us not forget it, as adults too,
we need to dream, we need to do,
and we need to have an impact on our environment.
These things give rise to a sense of optimism
about our capacity to shape our own lives.”
~Sue Stuart-Smith
The Well Gardened Mind
XOXOXO

life lately, as we approach the end of july 2021

Well, my summertime blogging streak did not last long, ha! But I am happy to be back at my keyboard, brimming with good feelings and stories worth sharing and enough words to match.

Since last we spoke, Handsome and I celebrated twenty years of marriage, all wrapped up in a solid month of celebrations, farm visitors, staycation weeks, and some projects sprinkled in, just for good measure. We reunited with a few beloved friends, sparked a couple of new friendships, and spent lots of time (and money) eating restaurant food. We also celebrated our youngest niece’s birthday. How is Kenzie fourteen already??

The farm is, as I type this, still unreasonably green and lush for late July. The year’s extravagant rainfall and mostly below average temperatures have really shown us how much wants to grow here, given the right conditions.

We are flush with tomatoes, marigolds, blackberries, tomatillos, zinnias, herbs, roses, hydrangeas, and more. Soon, we will have okra and squash in abundance. Until a few weeks ago, the easement along the front edge of our property was bursting with tall prairie grass and wave upon wave of bright yellow wildflowers. Call them weeds I you want to, but I love them. The front field, where we have the winding meditation path, also boasts these beautiful natural features along with some blue wildflowers and a smattering of hot pink cosmos and rusty colored amaranth. I am smitten by the textures, depth, and variety. We recently invested in a brand new zero-turn mower with a generously sized deck, so Handsome can more easily maintain the paths out there. If you visit us, please take a few minutes to wander! I promise you there are good vibes in the quiet where Chunk-hi used to play, and you might see the flattened hiding spots where the deer sleep.

Speaking of good vibes, we are still buzzing with romance and gratitude from our big anniversary party. We filled the house and south lawn with a few dozen friends and family to renew our vows with happy witnesses, eat some decadent cake, and dance ourselves into blissful exhaustion. It was a much anticipated event that was twice nearly ruined by weather, but at the last minute, on the second reschedule, everything came together and everyone had a great time.

We still feel so cushioned and energized by everyone’s love and support. Good marriages don’t happen in a vacuum, after all; we feel lucky to be integrated into such a healthy community. Twenty years! Twenty years of adventure, ups and downs, terrifying moments with our kids, heartbreak with extended family, evolving friendships, paradigm shifts, incredible career trajectory, romance and tradition-curating, and of course this little farm experiment of ours. Two decades of absolute amazement that we still get to live with each other, still get to build the exact kind of life we want and enjoy the daily process of loving each other. It all feels way too short and fast.

The same weekend that we celebrated twenty years, Jess and Alex celebrated six months! Already these gorgeous young kids have made memories and tackled life curveballs together, working hard and loving their pups along the way. We are so proud and happy.

Are you reading anything worth sharing? In the morning minutes while I drink coffee and wait for daybreak, I am still working through Ask and It Is Given as well as a perpetual devotional by Bob Goff and a new book about the connection between gardening and mental health. More on that third book, soon. The rest of the day and evening, when I manage to claim some time to sit and read, I have sworn myself to only fiction. It’s a way for me to capitalize on summertime freedom, ha. Recently, a Tana French book blew me away: The Witch Elm. Everyone who likes this author says to also read her Dublin murder squad series, which I intend to do. This week I am reading Silent Corner by Dean Koontz. He is one of my all time favorite writers. Like a good, lose-yourself-worthy palate cleanser.

Last month, Jessica read The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, and I read it a second time to discuss with her. Ten years later, with so much about life that is vastly different now, was a wholly different experience. Hearing my adult daughter’s remarks was unforgettable.

She was a baby the first time, recently gone from us, and my world was spinning and bottomless. Now she is “home,” and I understand so much more about the hell she and her sister endured in those years. I wonder what will have changed ten years from now, if we were to read the book again, what healing can have happened. Will Jocelyn be whole and home and fully returned to us, a second time? (She is okay now, but we are not completely okay without her.) Will we have grandchildren? Will my husband be talking about retirement or consulting work? Will I have published five or six or ninety books? Will someone have found the safe cure for squash bugs and grasshoppers, and will our kitchen walls be opened yet?

One more update to share before I close this up and see where I can move the needle around the farm today: We have been invited to participate in the 2021 Oklahoma Master Gardeners’ Garden tour! So on the last day of September, a tour bus (or two?) filled with talented, passionate local gardeners will spill out into the driveway of our farm, and we will welcome them for a little exploration. Lots of changed here since the same five years ago, and I know that August and September will bring rapid changes in the vegetable garden and flower beds, but overall I excited to share our space and reconnect with the gardening community. I had pulled away from volunteering when our life could not bear so many hours away, but gosh I have missed the people.

Pat, one of my sweet, smart class mentors,
and Elizabeth, a mind blowing multi-talented woman!

Keep dreaming up what you want, friends. Remember that it is a different act of faith that dreaming against what you don’t want. Keep visualizing the fruit of hope and work and Love in vivid detail, and walk steadily toward every big and small thing that brings you joy and satisfies you. It is good work, the business of keeping your flames fanned and lively.

“You gotta imagine what’s never been.”
~Sue Monk Kidd
The Secret Lives of Bees

grateful for this fathers day

Father’s Day 2021 holds, more than ever before, a mix of joy and gratitude, grief and anger, really the full spectrum. All of it can coexist, as we know, and all of it does.

My own Dad and my own precious husband continue to dazzle us with their steadfast love and hard work, despite what pain each of them hides. They both make fatherhood look easy, as if loving, providing, protecting, and guiding are what they were born to do. Even when their own needs for love and help, some fatherly support, might be lacking. Somehow, they always find new resources to draw on and make the magic happen.

Then my girls. They face this Father’s Day weekend, the first one, really, without their Dad. Last year on Father’s Day, the shock of his suicide was so raw, so included in that long, black storm. A year has passed now, and they have survived every day, every month, every season, riding the waves and somehow staying afloat. Their feelings are not mine to share. What I will say is that I could not be more proud of how they have managed this, of the lives they are building as beautiful, resilient, talented, and life-filled young women. And I could not be more thankful for their individual health and the fact that they are cultivating a true, adult, sisterly friendship. Please keep them and their stepbrother in your warmest, strongest thoughts as they pass this painful milestone.

Silliness & pure joy!! xoxoxo

This morning I am in awe of how charmed my life has been because of good men. My Dad first and foremost, my excellent grandfathers, and so many fun and loving uncles, friends, and mentors, all stepping into my life year after year, showing up at just the right moments, causing me to believe so strongly in the goodness of men as a group that I have angrily resisted modern movements that say otherwise. I love these men. I love the shape and strength they bring to the world. I love the way their energy makes me feel.

And then my husband. The handsome young man who, twenty years ago, stepped eagerly into the thankless role of “stepdad” but loved two little doe eyed girls without any caveat. He might have first loved them because they were mine, but in no time at all he loved them genuinely for who they were, and he dove in greedily to cultivate relationships with each of them. When outside forces tried to puncture that enthusiasm, he only redoubled his love. When crises piled up and life got excruciatingly hard and did not relent, he also did not relent. He stayed and loved harder than ever, and he prayed big and small prayers with me, and with God we did move heaven and earth. Then he gave himself over, again and very happily, to the fun and celebration of being a Dad of young women, all those little girl memories stored up and warming us. He continues to lead and guide, protect, give freely, and remind them to be safe and happy and free. It is an indescribable peace to have him loving this little family.

We spent a frigid but sunny afternoon walking and playing at Lily Lake. She is in her element here. Can’t you tell? xoxo

It cannot be easy for men to be the giver of unwanted advice the deliverer of hard facts and protectiveness, the “bad guy” when what their kids and families want is not best for them. It cannot be easy for men to crave the entire world for their families and work themselves to the bone to make dreams come true, but still feel like it is never enough.

I hope my Dad and my husband always know deep in their hearts that what they do is far more than enough. That what they say sinks in and inspires us. That how they love us day after day, year after year, makes all the difference in the world, whether life is bright and easy or dark and stormy. I hope they both know that we need them now more than ever, and that we love them and are proud to be theirs, no matter how they feel day to day. I also hope that my father in law knows that the foundations he laid for his son are still strong, still solid, and still thrumming with Love.

Harvey Wreath 1995

My gratitude overwhelms me today. Gratitude for the stability we all enjoy because of our Dads’ and husbands’ faithfulness and steadfastness. The comforts we all enjoy because they go to such great lengths to show their love in new and creative ways. The peace we all feel because, when it could have turned out so differently at so many points in time, we still get to be a family.

Tonight, when so many families cannot, we get to gather for a casual, delicious, laughter filled, memory making dinner. We have the inexpressible luxury of looking our men in the face and saying thank you for guiding us, protecting us, listening to our hopes and dreams, and flowing with the unending chaos of life.

Happy Fathers’ Day, and may Love and absolute peace and joy overwhelm you today.

brick by brick

I have enjoyed the best short work week, and my heart is hammering with gratitude and excitement. About what? It’s hard to articulate. Hard to narrow it down. The weather certainly helps. Summertime is glorious here, and finally we are stepping into the lush, gilded season. But this is a deeper feeling than just pleasure or relaxation. I feel that wonderful, elusive kind of joy that comes when purpose aligns with both motivation and resources. No, it feels even better than that. It feels like anticipation without nervousness or that sense of scarcity that often accompany it. Like I am fine right where I am, and also I feel something huge coming.

I love this explosion of color, so much.

Okay.

I walked outside to snap a photo of the shade garden for this post, because I wanted to share the brick pathway with you. The afternoon has been quiet with the newfound heat (80 degrees today with no wind!), barely a goose honk or horse snuffle, so a soft rustling of dried leaves caught my attention. I assumed it was Romulus behind the cottage. I walked forward and stepped up onto the deck then heard the sound again and saw something flash in my periphery. A snake, a pretty big one, was speeding like quicksilver toward me.

I jumped sideways and backwards all at once and also did a back handspring into the herb garden (stuck the landing, thank-you-very-much) to evade him.

Sebastian

This is most likely Sebastian, the rat snake who has lived beneath our deck for a few years now. I did him no harm, though we often dispatch even harmless snakes for being too near the house or chicken coops. I also did not venture forth for the shade garden photo. Speaking of chickens.

Yesterday, the kids paid me a surprise visit, and as always we had the best conversation and delighted in watching Klaus and Bean play outside. All the time, I am amazed by how it feels to relate to my kids as adults. It is a complete and joyful surprise in life, and I would not trade it for anything.

This morning as we sipped our coffee and absorbed about one third of the news, Handsome and I started sketching out plans for two very worthy celebrations here at the farm, both of them slated for later in the summer. I won’t spill the beans yet, but suffice it to say that not planning many gatherings these past fifteen months really had my hostess energy bottle-necking. The relief, the fire hydrant of ideas, almost made me nauseous. In a good way.

We chip away at lofty goals and heartfelt dreams one act or one job at a time. One day, one hour, one moment is all we can ever spend at once. That’s okay, as long as we spend most of them really well. Moving slowly and steadily toward our hopes and best intentions, building our unique paths, is totally fine done brick by brick. This might be the best lesson running (and specifically marathon training) has taught me: See your biggest goal and break it down in a realistic way, then focus on and complete one task, one workout, one mile, one step at a time. Amazingly, they add up, and they add up quickly. Even the hard ones.

Keep at it, friends!

“You own everything that happened to you.
Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them,
they should’ve behaved better.”
~Anne Lamott
XOXOXOXO

give chase

As of today, Handsome and his team at Public Utilities are working in the building again. Full time, more or less, with plenty of considerations and creative solutions to keep everyone safe and happy. Although he has been in the Jim Thorpe building or at the Capitol more and more in recent weeks, this marks a new chapter. The farm will miss him very much.

This afternoon while going on a muddy wander-walk around the farm, Klaus and I discovered three giant buzzards feeding on the carcass of a dead snake (an enormous, previously muscular, now flat and stinking dead snake). The exact moment we realized they were buzzards and not crows, Klaus flexed his entire body, spiked up his terrifying hackles, and bolted straight and hard like something out of an action movie. The scavenger birds dispersed, floated up to the lowest branch of a nearby pine tree, and sat there pulsing their considerable shoulders at us. Klaus delivered his most baritone warning to the sky then turned to me proudly, smiling.

We wander-walked away, but every time Klaus sensed the buzzards return silently to the ground, he again gave chase, ruined their luncheon, and returned to me, panting and smiling. Few things makes this boy happier than protecting the farm. Even if he is protecting us from nature itself.

All of that adrenaline boiled, cooled, and boiled again, without a full release. So when Johnny Ringo (the cat) joined us on the meditation path, he was really in for it.

In about an hour, I get to meet with a fascinating gentleman from Choctaw to finish up his pandemic interview, which I will be sharing later this week. I am so excited to get back in the swing of this project. And I believe you will be inspired by his slant of things this past year. His is one of two stories that still remain to be told (my friends are so patient), then I will be hungry for more interviews. I had to take some time away to kind of let my heart settle. It had all built up in unexpected ways for me, then of course the gardens and all of life reopening meant I was spending less and less time on my laptop. Anyway. I’m back and loving the project and everyone’s stories as much as ever.

This first day of June has been a good one for diving into good intentions, sweaty exercise, happy farm tasks, and solid conversation. My heart is full. I hope whatever you’re chasing gives you the same thrill as wild buzzards gave Klaus today.

“Whatever fills the heart and consumes the mind
is a manifestation of what is worshipped.”
-Alisha Illian
XOXOXOXO