Lazy W Marie

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

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high fire danger

This past week I remembered a mental trick or visualization that has always helped me in moments of crisis. I had forgotten about it for a while because, well, it’s not much needed in smooth and easy times. I hope this is useful to you, too.

Years ago, I learned to think of all my emotions as sparks of fire. I acknowledge every single one as real and valid, doing my best to feel them entirely; but then I decide whether they are emotions that should be fanned into true flames, and then into bonfires that can warm me and keep me safe, fires that can warm and feed my loved ones, or sparks that if left unchecked will grow into a dangerous, detructive wildfires.

The whole point for me is that every emotion can be fed or starved and has an end purpose, or at least potential. I get to decide, to an extent, the role they play in my life and in the world I share with my loved ones.

Okay, friends. No doubt about it, this past week has been hard. Not just in circumstances but in the emotional maelstrom that inevitably comes along for the ride. I have been fighting anger that actually qualifies as true rage. Then this rage sometimes drains out of my body and leaves a really cold, weird sadness, and I can’t stop crying. Shadowy details of our situation have twsited into very specific, painful fears that dominated my thoughts for a couple of days. I have definitely seen logical hope here and there, but I was having trouble feeling it most days. And I lost track of how to guide my emotions. I let a few sparks grow into fires when I should have consciously tamped them out.

This only happens in times like this, when our circumstances and life challenges are so bizarre that I don’t feel like myself. It’s insanely destabilizing. Emotionally, it’s a dry, windy, barren kind of environment that makes it so easy for sparks to become wildfires. High fire danger. No room for sloppiness.

A few nights ago, a new friend and one of Handsome’s colleagues texted me, just checking in. We traded updates then settled on a shared belief in this scripture:

“My grace is sufficient for thee. For my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
-II Corinthians 12:9

It was a fairly spontaneous exchange, and it set me gently on the path of renewing myself inwardly, though I had first quoted it (badly) with the intention of helping her. By the next day, I noticed that I was actually feeling better, fresher, more pliable, more alive in my thoughts and even in my body. I was no longer muscling myself into a positive attitude; the whole landscape around us seemed different. Green, hydrated, nourished. More than just hopeful, our entire world seemed to be brimming with promise.

As I write this now, I can honestly say that every single aspect of this situation feels perfect. Anointed, even. Of course there will be more hard days ahead, and there is plenty of mystery still. But that’s ok. I remember now to stay nourished and watered, so that my inner emotional landscape is never so dry and barren that sparks can fly out of control like that. And I remember to choose carefully which sparks get to be fanned into beautful, cozy, life affirming bonfires.

Thanks for reading, friends, and thanks for your messages and solid gold love this week! I hope this is helpful to you in some way.

“Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.” ~II Corinthians 10:5

safe to celebrate

A couple of weeks ago while festooning the farm with paper chains and garland and lights, paper snowflakes and more, I texted Handsome asking if he had decided to add a Christmas tree or any other fun decorations to his office at the Commish. “You’re safe to celebrate now,” I typed. But instantly I realized it was an assurance to myself as much as it was for him.

We’re safe, friends.

Safe to celebrate. Safe to sink into the lush beauty and immense pleasure of not only Christmastime but life in general, in all seasons. Safe, despite the worries that gnaw at us, despite the still unresolved heartaches. Safe to celebrate, even as the work is neverending and some precious loved ones are living in terror and suspense. Safe even as we worry about aging animals and parents and the world at large, changing constantly.

Safe.

Safe because we have faced so many crises in twenty five years and remained standing, closer and closer together. Safe because we have navigated a dozen difficult conversation just these past few months and emerged from the fog with clearer vision and even firmer footing. Safe because, after wobbling around in the dark for a while, I remember again where my power lies and know in my bones how strong the flow of Love really is, how immediately available it always is, always has been. It’s a short pivot, really, not a long journey home.

((mistletoe kisses in Guthrie, OK, December 2025))

We’re safe to celebrate because the miraculous gift of Christmas was freely given even with the unavoidable agony that would happen so shortly afterwards. I think that’s what reminds me most of the importance of letting these realities of life coexist: God teaches us constantly that grief will always follow joy, and joy will always follow grief; and we are invited and instructed to embrace both experiences, and everthing in between.

I hope you feel this invitation to celebrate, friends. I hope you feel safe to dive deep and keep your eyes open to everything, every aspect of life, knowing you are surrounded and supported by Love. Designed by Love Itself to be a conduit for the same. You are safe, so let’s celebrate.

“So to live as if you are unloved is a limitation.
Living unloved is like clipping a bird’s wings and removing its ability to fly.”
~William Young
XOXOXO

what’s saving my life lately

I’m shamelessly borrowing this sweet idea from Emily Freeman. I love it as an expansion to Bliss Lists or Senses Inventories. Diving in.

What’s Saving My Life Lately is everything, really. Every single reminder to live more fully in my human form, immersing myself more deeply in the physical and emotional experiences of being here. Because it sure is fleeting and ever changing. This is a welcome contrast to living online or living in my head. This is natural.

What’s saving my life lately is music by Sting, Lana del Rey, and Leonard Cohen.

Something else saving my life lately is more silence than usual, so I can hear the farm better. Fewer podcasts and lots of quiet solo work. I am becoming reacquainted with the sounds of Johnny Cash honking sleepily and the cows mooing at each other. Rhett’s tone is especially low, so his voice goes unnoticed unless your’e paying attention. I even love, again, the swish-gurgle-hum of the dishwasher. I am smitten by the background music of Klaus snoring.

What’s saving my life lately is slowing down to let Klaus lead me on walks more often. He loves a routine and a familiar path, but sometimes he surprises me. He can always tell when I am following him, when he’s the one in charge, and he loves it. He rewards me with lots of leg cuddles and full face smiles. The kind with smoothed back ears and stars in his eyes. The cooler mornings have been saving his life, too. It’s pure joy to see him skip and bounce again, teeter tottering around the farm.

((Scarlett and Klaus are still buddies, even if they no longer play soccer every day.
Rhett just wouldn’t understand.))

More of the full human experience, something I really love lately, is hours of unstructured quality time with loved ones, face to face. We wouldn’t want to do without the digital conveniences, of course; but remembering those are tools, not replacements for the real thing, has generated a lot of luscious goodness. On Tuesday I had the rare luxury of a whole afternoon with a new friend, and really we just sat still and talked and talked. We talked about everything, at least twice! We did take one slow walk around the farm, and we planted paperwhites in the greenhouse, but that’s it. Barely even a snack, ha! Thursday, Alex and the grandpups visited, and we talked and talked, too. We shared a rare midday meal, nice and slow, just the two of us, and it was literally wonderful. Full of wonder. There is no replacement in life for deep, face to face, undistracted connection.

The colors of autumn, both in the landscape and inside our house, are a visual and energetic balm to me. This year the decline has felt especially slow and gentle. Restful and life giving.

((as above, so below…xoxo))

A surprise view of the Northern Lights with Handsome and our friend Cathy.

Realizing that a new friend and I do miss each other, now that we are no longer seeing each other every day.

Conversations with our adult chldren, spiraling upward all the time. What a gift! I never know what we’re going to discuss, but I always love hearing their perspectives on world events, dog care, television, food, you name it.

An old book by C.S. Lewis (Screwtape Letters) and a new book by David Robson (The Expectation Effect).

Something truly saving my life right now is making a point to do something each day that is not easily undone. In my world, it’s so easy to get stuck in perpetual maintenance mode, always chasing the daily mundane tasks that are necessary but invisible and unending. It helps my state of mind to pause that treadmill and do something slightly more long lasting.

Speaking of treadmills, I’ve been doing a little more strength and mobility work and focusing less on how many miles I’m running. It’s refreshing. Life giving, to be sure.

Dreaming up new ideas for third grade garden club is one of the best life givers. Spending time with those kids is pure magic! This Monday we had our final outdoor project for the semester. They learned how to pot up paperwhite bulbs, an easy task for practiced gardeners they are; then they decorated their pots with exactly the amount of wild abandon you would expect from happy third graders. I loved every milisecond and went home smiling so hard I was almost crying.

Brushing the horses and watching their winter coats come in thick and fuzzy.

Watching our lone rooster follow and protect his eight hens.

Noticing Johnny Cash make his way all the way downhill to the pond for a sunshine splash.

Perfect coffee with frothy heated cream. My favorite multigrain bread for lunch. The biggest, crispest, sweetest apples I have ever eaten, a small heap of them on my dining room table. Kiwis, roasted garden vegetables (maybe the final batch of the season), more beans, oatmeal, and guacamole. More fiber in my diet latey, ha! That may literally be saving my life.

Seeing Handsome dressed sharply and feeling happy to go to work, excited about so many worthwhile projects. And seeing him get his second tattoo! Watching him adorn our farm with Christmas lights, boop the cows on their noses, and cuddle our cat. Listening to him and Alex build a new kitchen pantry at the kids’ house. Knowing he has more ideas and more love to pour into them. Watching him sink in and enjoy his life, in so many different ways, gives ME life.

Taper candles. Pumpkins. Forty year old popcorn garland on my indoor trees, a gift from our recently passed Aunt Marion, I remember them from childhood. White twinkle lights everywhere. Plaid fabric ripped and tied into garlands. A citrusy-cinnamon-clove simmer pot. Layers of fuzzy blankets but open windows so the breeze comes through. Copper cookie cutters hanging in both the kitchen and dining room. Colorful paper chains for a rambunctious Christmas display in the Party Barn. The promise of paperwhite blooms in a few weeks. Seven pots’ worth!

It is saving my life right now to decorate for winter, a little bit for Christmas, but just winter in general. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and it’s so fun to see the farm and our rooms cozied up and ready for celebration. It feels good deep down.

Writing more, especially chipping away at the children’s Farmily stories, has been wonderful. I am slow at this for several reasons, but it’s getting done, and it’s life giving.

It’s saving my life right now to share our favorite chocolate fudge cake recipe with Jessica, to walk her through the needed ingredients while she shopped then give her a small boost while she prepared it for her office potluck. She did great! She even obeyed me and took a tiny “Quality Control” bite from the corner, hehe. The best detail of this story is that Jess used the same 9×13 glass pan that my Mom gifted Handsome on his birthday when we were first married. Way back when, Mom brought it to his office filled with her Mom’s recipe, and it instantly became his favorite. So Jessica took her great-grandmother’s recipe in a 24 year old glass pan, and it was a hit with her coworkers. Life.

Here’s what I know:

We are pulled in all directions, tested and drained in every way. We are tattered and bruised, and we are in many ways battle weary and heartbroken. Filled with fear, if we fill ourselves with fear.

We can cling to those emotions, nurse them and glorify them, magnify and identify with them; or we can make a better choice.

We can identify and celebrate the just as numerous ways life returns to us, refills us, saves us. We can magnify those feelings instead and acknowledge and celebrate the incredible, wonder-filled goodness of this earthly life, this human experience, in all its richness and complexity.

I wish for you a million details that give you life, that save your life, that recharge you. I wish for you the wisdom and presence of mind to name them. Magnify them. Give those gifts way more power than you give the rest.

I’m wishing this for myself, too.

Thank you, Emily, for this lovely train of thought!

“Who knew that by making the world a better place,
You’d make the world a better place?”
~Alex Yeverino
XOXOXO

dare you

A few days ago Handsome and I were at our favorite Mexican restaurant, filling our bellies and trying to stay awake. It was the day after our big annual Talent Show, which is draining in all the best ways, and we had not slept well after it. We required much ice cold caffiene and many warm tortilla chips with great salsa. Our waiter was exceedingly nice and attentive, but he kept doing something so funny that, in my state of exhaustion, was pushing me to the edge of uncontrollable laughter: Whenever he checked on our drinks or asked us a question he would punctuate the brief exchanges with a wink, a soft clicking of his tongue, like how you would giddy up a horse (two syllables, like clucking), and a weirdly comforting, “I gotcha!” About half of those times, he also did finger guns at me. I am not kidding you.

One singular exchange ending in this kind of animated friendliness would absolutely have grabbed my attention. But you guys, he did it so many times, and in such close successsion one time to another, that, as I said, I was on the verge of a giggle fest.

“I gotcha…”
Wink.
Giddy-up sounds.
Finger guns.

Repeatedly. Just sit with that for a minute.

I actually started wondering if someone had dared him to do this, becuase it reminded me so much of a few Decembers ago when we were out with friends and I low-key dared everyone to say “Merry Christmas” to the same person as many times as humanly possible. We happened to be at a Mexican restaurant that night, also, but in a dfferent part of town. Our waitress caught on at some point and confronted us directly. “What exactly is going on here, are you doing that on purpose??!!” We laughed and laughed and laughed because we regard ourselves as comic geniuses, then we let her in on the whole thing. I think it was a printed Bingo game that night, filled with the Merry Christmas dare plus lots more silliness, so we offered it to her to try for herself. She accepted with unveiled enthusiasm. I would love to know how she fared in the wild with these meaningless but joyful dares.

((Life is always better when you’re laughing. Laughter heals. ))

So I guess what I’m getting at is this: I dare you to dare someone to do something silly. And soon. It’s worth the energy speed bump. It’s worth the brief awkwardness. It feels so great to have some nonsensical laughter folded into the mundanity of daily adult life. We are too bound up in seriousness, I think.

And if you need some ideas?
I gotcha. Wink.
Giddy up sounds.
Finger guns!
XOXOXO

to Judy at her baby’s milestone birthday

August 26, 2025

Dear Judy,

Fifty years ago you were likely preparing for the hospital, anxiously awaiting your much loved and much planned love child with Harvey. Actually, knowing your nature, you had been ready for a while! Your suitcase was probably already packed, and you had long since made plans for the older kids to be at Grandma Goldie’s house. I wonder if you had Mexican food one more time before going into labor. Did you know you were having a son, or was that a surprise? I don’t know if I ever heard that detail.

What I do know without a shadow of a doubt is that you loved being his Mom. I think possibly, of all the passions God gave you in this earthly life, you loved nothing more. And he has flourished because of it. He flourishes still, drawing constantly on your love, your belief in him, your character shaping, and the hope that your prayers “hang in the air around him,” as the saying goes.

We would love to be partying with you this year. This milestone. This week to celebrate so much, not just the passage of a truly stunning volume of time but also the achievement of deep and hard earned peace. You might not agree with every single choice he has made in recent years, particularly this tattoo that’s about to happen, but most of those would just earn some smirks and jokes and a prized onery look of mock judgement over your eyeglasses, after which you would probably smile again and ask him, “Well, have you ate?” And even if he had eaten, he would say no and choose between a few favorite restaurants.

You would be proud, though, deeply proud, of so much. I hope you can see the best highlights from wherever you are, because he is carrying the mantle for you in ways we could not have dreamed of before you left. You should see what he has accomplished at the Commission. The storms he has navigated, the spiritual infrastructure he has built. Not aligned with any political party, but aligned with doing the right thing, he frequently invokes stories about you and your party-indifferent love for people and getting things done efficiently and transparently. He is the manager you always declared he would be, just on a much larger scale. We still have that concrete planter you gifted him to celebrate his first bank branch manager job on May Avenue in Oklahoma City. Every time I see it I think of you and how firmly you saw his future, decades ahead of time. People commonly talk about a mother’s love, and that’s good and true; but you also demonstrated the power of a mother’s vision. Thank you for that. Thank you for holding it for him, and thank you for showing both of us how vital it is to see through the storm into a beautiful future, an unclouded day.

He is an excellent father in law, as you were an excellent mother in law. His instincts and affection are so genuine and tender, it makes me fall more deeply in love with him every time I watch him with Alex. And if the kids’ wishes come true, he will be an excellent Grandpa, too. He’ll spoil those babies rotten and never apologize for it. We already have so much energy built up here at the farm for future grandbabies, and I know you would be happy to watch it all unfold, so long as we don’t let them have three wheelers.

Sometimes he laughs in a way that makes it feel like you are in the room with us. Sometimes he looks at me over his glasses in the exact way you would. And did you know we have a dear friend now, named Cathy, who has about a hundred uncanny traits similar to yours? When we finally acknowledged it to each other, it was such a comfort. I think her likenesses to you draw him in for weekend touchpoints. A sacred rhythm.

He is still finding ways to “Take care of the children,” as you implored him to do. The opportunities and inspirations change seasonally, but it’s always a natural fit when it happens. I wish you could share in some of it. The Batmobile in particular is a project I wish you could touch and hear and experience, bodily. There is no doubt you are woven into it.

He still loves your chocolate fudge cake and lemon ice box pie more than any other holiday dessert. He still has the same, soft old Snoopy you gave him. He still holds every good thing about childhood up to the high standard you provided. He still tells all his stories to anyone who will listen. You are here with us, is what I’m saying. We miss you terribly, but you are still here. You are very much alive in his personality, and I hope you feel it.

Thank you for loving him so well for the thirty eight years he had you that he still feels it. Thank you for raising a boy who could become the man that he is, the kind of man this world desperately needs. Disciplined, in control of himself, ambitious, protective, fiercely loyal, fun loving, and God fearing. Thank you for managing to establish so many traditions and cravings in him that endure to this day. Our life is so rich because of that. Your vacation-loving, Batman-crazed, video game-playing baby boy is all of that still and much more.

Fifty years old this week, more handsome than ever, and healthier than ever, too. Your son is doing great. Your motherhood continues. I just wanted you to know.

We love you, we miss you,
and we wish you could be here for his birthday.
xoxo
Marie