Lazy W Marie

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

another feather in his cap: Joe’s first marathon

On December 10, 2022, our brother Joe ran his first marathon! He casually threw this accomplishment into the mix of an already busy and stressful, highly textured, and wildly successful life. Joe is Commander and Public Works Officer for the Naval Facilities Engineering Systems Command in Rota, Spain. He and his wife Halee, the green eyed, raven haired sister our blonde, brown eyed crew gained by marriage, have been globetrotting for all of their two decades long marriage. They have been busy raising their two boys in so many amazing places our Navy has seen fit to send them.

Halee and Joe at the Seabee Ball in Spain, March 2023…xoxo

Active in various athletic pursuits all his life, Joe is not exclusively a runner; but he certainly has the discipline for long term, hard training. He has ran at least two half marathons, one in Spain (a year ago, the same event as the full he just completed) and one before, while stationed in Virginia. Both were successful.

For the Virginia half he followed the famously difficult Hansons training plan. During those months he and I commiserated quite a bit, as I was dabbling with Hansons then, too. We learned together along the way, though living many states apart, and traded weird details about daily life that mostly only runners would care about. I was so inspired by his strong finish and adherence to that plan! I clearly remember one conversation in review of Hansons when my younger and more stoic brother pointed out that the only way to honestly evaluate a training plan is to stick to it scrupulously, to give it your best and most honest effort. Otherwise, how can you say it was the plan that either passed or failed?

super speedy half marathon in 2019

For this last training block, Joe flew much more under the radar. Not a single announcement on Facebook about his paces or goal or inspired reason for running, no Babe Ruth homerun declarations, nothing. That autumn I noticed his Garmin activities building volume and suspected he had something up his sleeve, but Joe has this aura of mystery about him, like a wild (if highly disciplined) horse who doesn’t want to be caught, so I resisted the urge to ask anything directly. I just made a few oblique comments here and there and secretly used the Law of Attraction to get him to open up. Finally he messaged me very casually about having signed up for his first marathon. Wahoo!! From that moment on I stalked his workouts like a weirdo and coordinated our far flung family to surprise him with something fun on race day, since he was halfway around the globe and we couldn’t be there with posters, cowbells, and refreshments (more on this remote surprise soon).

Watching Joe’s fitness build during those weeks was both motivating and humbling, because I have at least a glancing idea of how much other responsibility he carries in life. Anyone who trains for a marathon knows that those few hours on race day are a drop in the bucket compared to the months of time and energy spent preparing. Training never happens in a vacuum.

Anyway, suffice it to say, I love my brother so much. We have been mistaken for twins several times, and I always take it as a compliment.

We forgot which of us was which in this history making face swap.

But if were twins, I know he would be the smarter (and faster) one. I would be the one slightly better at gardening and diagramming sentences, possibly baking. He is an inspiration to me in a hundred ways, and I feel so happy that we share a love of running and a sincere curiosity about the art and science of marathoning.

After his race, in fact after the holidays, I got him to agree to a short interview to indulge all of my curiosities. What a fun thrill for me to finally share this story, in his words! Enjoy!!

Joe and his first born son, our nephew Greg, approaching the finish line!!
What a cool moment to share with each other xoxo

1. When did you decide to train for a marathon, and was there an event or moment that inspired you? Is this a basket list thing? I won’t claim it was a lifelong goal, but after having run a few half marathons, I felt it was inevitable, I just didn’t know when. I didn’t do any real structured training from 2020 into 2021, but then ran a half that December with only moderate training. The course was flat and weather was mild. So when the race organizers emailed out reminders the following spring (2022), I decided to go for the full this time somewhat on a whim. That gave me more than six months to prep, which seemed doable.

2. You used a very different training program than you used for your half in Virginia. Tell me why you chose a different plan, how they compared, etc. If you run another full, will you prepare the same way, go back to Hansons, or something else? I knew I couldn’t dedicate six days per week to a program this time. I had other commitments and desires, including military group PT (physical training) a couple times per week, a personal desire to lift weights, and a full plate otherwise. So I chose a plan that included only four days per week. It was one step above one of the real first-timer plans, but not much. If I decide to run another full, I would like to improve, so I think going back to the Hanson method is a good likelihood as it does seem like an effective method. Which means I will need to have the time and (mental) energy to do a plan like that!

3. What did you do for cross training? Were you running paces at current fitness or beyond (how did you set your goal)? I went to a group workout 1-2 times per week as part of my duties, which sometimes was a short run (usually 3 mi., which I’d substitute into my plan), or a body weight circuit, or even team sports. As I got into the last 8-ish weeks, I would opt out more often to save myself for the long runs and to recover more. I also tried to lift weights a couple times per week. Similarly, I stopped that in the last 4-6 weeks. My running was mostly pretty slow. 1-2 minutes per mile slower than my goal. That usually allowed an easy recovery. Looking back, I can see how much my sleep pattern wasn’t ideal. Mostly 5-6 hrs per night. I know better now. Maybe. I set my goal somewhat arbitrarily. I thought a 4-hr marathon would be an awesome baseline, and it’s a time you often see as a benchmark goal for amateurs, so I did the math and figured out that’s about a 9-min pace. A little slower actually. I’ve run sub-8 pace half marathons, so even though I wasn’t in that shape then, I thought it was achievable. Now I know that was too ambitious, or that I would have needed to pick a more aggressive training plan to have gotten there.

4. Did your training block go as expected or as planned? Tell me about any significant hiccups. Tell me about any pleasant surprises, too. Tell me how your confidence and motivation fluctuated as training progressed. Overall, it went relatively smoothly. No major hiccups. Looking back, maybe I took it too easy. I did get sick for a few days a couple times in the second half and had to adapt the plan. I missed a few runs, including a 13-mi long run. But that was actually a step down week, sandwiched between 18 and 19 mi long runs, so I thought it wasn’t a worst case scenario. The only on-road hiccup I recall was during my longest training run, a 20 miler three weeks before the race. The 19 mi run had gone well and was a confidence booster, but I was sick again a couple days later, so I missed 1 or 2 shorter runs. I felt mostly better by the weekend, and ran the 20-miler just a couple days late. In the last few miles of that run, my digestive track really started throwing a fit. I was searching for concealment and hopefully a discarded cloth to clean up just in case. Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary and after a few minutes pause I was able to shuffle home the last couple miles. That’s when I started my 3-wk taper, not exactly on a high. Probably wasn’t fully recovered from being sick.

5. I know your race day was cold and rainy. How was the weather as you trained, overall? Did the weather in Spain change much over those weeks? I picked this race partially because of the weather. December (and fall in general) is mild in southern Spain. I knew it should be in the 50s on race day, which was about reality. The rain was always a possibility, but of course I was hoping for dry. Rain definitely makes your shirt and shoes heavy. I fared well through it, but I did get a couple of blisters on my feet late in the course, which took over a month to fully heal. My training plan had started in late July, so I went from running in the 70s to the 50s (I ran in the early morning 99% of the time). Very easy place to run year round. Very small percentage of time you can blame the weather for not training, so you have to get creative with your excuses!

6. Who was your training partner, and how did their marathon experience compare? I ran solo pretty much the entire training plan, but had signed up for the race with a Navy buddy, Chris, who had done the same half in 2021 with me. He’s a talented runner that generally just wings it (my perception of course, but I know he doesn’t follow a rigid plan). Chris has run a few marathons and is pretty consistent year round. So he ramped up for the race and crushed it. Well under his stated 4-hour goal (sub 3:40), pretty sure a PR for him. He’s also modest, so he may not have admitted his target out loud. By complete coincidence, another Navy friend, Ben, was deployed here and ran the marathon as well. Ben is an even more experienced runner who has run countless marathons, definitely in the low 3s, likely has a sub 3 under his belt. But more importantly, he also ran my first half marathon with me back in 2004; another chilly rainy race. We never saw each other on the course, but it was a cool happenstance.

7. What was your race day breakfast, what shoes did you wear, and what was your post race meal? Breakfast was coffee, two pieces of bread (no toaster in the hotel) with peanut butter and a banana. Very close to my pre-long-run meals. I ran in Altra Provision 5. Post race, we went to a local restaurant/brewery… I don’t remember what I ordered, maybe a burger? But I do remember we had quite a feast before getting on the road to drive home. I was a little worried about sitting in the back seat with two 12-yr olds for three hours. But I survived. The adults agreed that we’d stop to stretch out if needed. Never had to after all.

Joe and Greg in Malaga, Spain, for race weekend…xoxo
Their hotel boasted a hot tub that was not heated, ha!
This would have made for better recovery than pre-race relaxation.

8. Did you know that Greg was going to cross the finish line with you? What was that moment like? It was very cool to see Greg at the finish and I loved that he wanted to do that. Didn’t know if I’d see him at all. Since Halee wasn’t able to come, Greg was hanging out with Chris’s wife and son (TJ and Isaac, one of our social circle’s staple families here in Spain). And due to the rain, it was unpredictable how much time they’d be spending road-side.

9. How was your physical recovery? To say I was spent is an understatement. I guess you could say I hit the wall during the race. Felt great through 17 or 18 miles, then digressed and had to force myself to finish. So I didn’t run at all for a couple weeks. The first week was just true rest/recovery, which was needed and effective. Then we had our holiday vacation to London the next weekend. So lot’s of walking in London for four or five days, but still no running. Got in a handful of runs starting in late December into January, but have mostly started focusing on lifting weights again. I thought I’d stick to three days of running per week as an ”off-season,” but haven’t got that rhythm going yet.

10. When is your next marathon, and can it be with me? : ) Soon as I realized I wouldn’t meet my goal, I started wondering if I’d “need” to do another one, or if I was going to be happy with having just survived one. Before the race, I even had thoughts that I might enjoy ultra training more. I do enjoy the long slow runs. But marathon training is a serious time commitment, where the long runs become a big part of every weekend. So with our move back to the States on the horizon, I don’t have any races in mind. I could see myself doing a couple more half marathons first. There are tons of races in the DC area and nearby, so I know there will be plenty of opportunity to develop a strategy, and lots of places to explore, potentially on long runs! I imagine I’ll do another full someday and would love to do it together! Maybe we can make it a destination race, or just have you out to DC for a race out there. The Marine Corps marathon is a big one that we may have to consider…

Thank you, brother, for sharing your marathon experience with us! You did a phenomenal job, and you managed to make it a family memory too. I love you, I am so happy for you, and I miss you like crazy. I am already scheming ways to get to the east coast once you relocate, so we can race MCM together.

XOXOXOXO

adieu to the queen of hearts

She was our brush with royalty.

((Little Lady Marigold, January, 2023))

She was diminutive, self assured and confident, fast as a cheetah, and studious. She was picky about who could touch her and gluttonous about food. I once couldn’t find her and thought she had liberated herself (again) from Retirement Village but found her buried, head first, inside her paddock’s enormous round bale of hay. She had burrowed into it by eating! She literally ate her way, all the way, to the center, and I just respect that so much. When she heard me calling, she casually backed out and popped her happy little head into the sunshine, all matted with hay, still chewing, and she looked at me. Nonplussed.

She hated being sheared but allowed it. Maybe she was smart enough to understand the relief that would come with a freshly shorn body, mid-summer. And her body was small! Startlingly petite without all that wool. She also hated fireworks but seemed to gather near to a bonfire.

She knew Klaus apart from all visiting dogs but still gave him a gentle little Stick Leg Treatment when he was being spicy. She knew to hide behind the legs of the tall bachelors, perhaps thinking her round little body was invisible, but most likely not caring, just calculating her next sprint around the back field.

Her name was Marigold because the day she came to live here, in June of 2020, was the first day that our French marigolds bloomed that year. Little Lady because, well because that’s what she was.

Her eyes were domed, always glassy and clear, with perfectly straight, slotted pupils. She had an honest, private gaze. She had hooves like little high heels and intense little legs. Solid black. And she chewed with a slight sideways grind that frequently made me hungry. After a long while and many pep talks, we got her to wear a little yellow halter, just to make capturing that much simpler, and I loved how it looked on her, with her floofy gray and white wool exploding in great clouds all around it. The day she got sick I removed her halter to make her as absolutely as comfortable as possible and it left a slight indentation in her face hairs. She let me massage it and sing Norwegian Wood.

She had triangle ears, soft and black and attentive to every sound. She was fond of sitting out in the sun or out in the moonglow, often staring downhill. She was impervious to snow. Her pasture mate, Romulus, is equally stout and contemplative, so they made a great match. The day she died, he watched over her and observed her removal solemnly. He lost all protectiveness. His guard had fully dropped.

*reigning queen of kicking rambunctious puppies*

Little Lady Marigold was a Suffolk sheep, a stunning fifteen years old this year. She was vivacious and low maintenance in all conditions. She ate well and drank well too, as evidenced by the little rainbow sheen her lanolin fleece left on the surface of her drinking water. We never knew her to be sick or even slow moving, not once, not until this week.

This Monday morning when LLM would normally be bleating and running left and right along the red steel gate for her breakfast happy to tell Romulus she was first today, she was downhill instead, and quiet. She was standing upright but would not come to me. I took a deep breath and said a prayer, heavy with that familiar sensation of this is bad. She let me approach and hold her but would not eat. Her breathing was a little challenged, a little shallow, and she just seemed… sad. She had lost all of her bounce. Gradually she walked around more, and I was too encouraged by that. She sought the sun on her face. She napped. She sipped water. And she hid herself away in her shelter.

The next two days were quiet for our regal little woman, and the gentle January weather was a blessing. It made it easier for me to make sure she was dry and softly bedded down, surrounded by eating and drinking options. I stayed with her most of those two days, only touching her when she said ok. My husband started her on a round of penicillin just in case she had a respiratory illness, but deep down we already felt she was just dying gently. Our friend and mentor, Maribeth, who was Marigold’s first farm mom, reminded me of LLM’s age and how very far past life expectancy she already was when she came to the Lazy W.

Early Wednesday morning, we discovered that Marigold had passed in her sleep. She was never in acute distress as far as we could tell, and she had curled herself up neatly, hopefully feeling safe and cozy and loved. Gosh she was loved. We wrapped her in two floral bedsheets and buried her gently, in that meadow behind the yurt. We gather there frequently to pray and be reflective, so she will be near lots of loving energy forever. I plan to grow a thick patch of French marigolds for her there, and BW has designated a gorgeous old tree stump as her grave marker.

Romulus and the other three bachelors watched from a distance, and Klaus stood with us. He got to say goodbye up close, and as he did so we gave thanks for Marigold teaching him how to gather and collect an animal safely. A shepherd, after all, he did this with her as needed, maybe a handful of times, and it was amazing. He was swift, gentle, and smart about it. She was an excellent teacher, and held a grudge of course, as was her right to do.

We already miss her so much. She was a singular presence here at the farm, a vibrant energy with an irreplaceable voice. If you have ever visited and heard Marigold “bleating” you know what I mean! It was a heavy handed, guttural sound that in no way matched her sweet appearance!

I would never have thought to myself, “You know what I want? An elderly Suffolk sheep!” But now I cannot imagine not having known her. Now, I see that she was gift, a beautiful, low, round, bossy, affectionate, introverted, brilliant little soul, and we will never forget her. I will also never stop giving thanks for her peaceful end, for the void of tragedy in her long, lovely life. She was a Lady, the Queen of Hearts.

If you grow some French marigolds this, year, please think of her.

“I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.”
xoxo

mid-December and definitely choosing JOY

Friends, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experiences with “toxic positivity.” Your comments on that blog entry and long exchanges on Facebook and Instagram have had my wheels turning all week. I am thankful to be surrounded by people who place a high value on authenticity as well as deliberate hopefulness, joyfulness, and faith.

((my first amaryllis are blooming!!))

The week before last week we were finishing up a fun little seasonal cold or flu or who knows what and scraped together enough energy to dive headfirst into Christmas. Our house had been decorated for a festive winter since right after Halloween, haha, including dried citrus garland everywhere, paperwhites potted up, and lots of plain evergreens with white lights; but as soon as the Thanksgiving feast was cleared away we surrendered it all to truly Christmas, and I have been adding fun stuff daily. Handsome surprised me one day while I was out running by adding the house lights and constructing our Santa sleigh, inflatables, you name it. Every year he does something new and festive, and I love it.

Christmas activities have kept us busy already, too.

Early in the month, with our friends Rex and Cathy, we tried a local fried chicken spot that was built in what used to be an actual feed store and lumber yard. In fact it was the first place we ever bought farm supplies when we moved here in 2007. After a delicious, greasy, filling meal the four of us watched the Harrah Christmas parade and let that really cement our holiday spirit. Then our three pups exchanged early gifts, ha! They are like children, no joke, ripping through wrapping paper and wrestling around the living room. Pure joy!

On a different morning, we took Klaus to our traditional Cowboy Christmas parade in Cowtown. We shivered and chattered our teeth and waved our cold, numb hands at all the heavily festooned float characters and “reindeer” horses, not to mention the state’s best Santa. Our friends from the Jedi OKC group had entered a float for the first time, and when everyone saw us they waved and screamed Klaus’ name, ha! So fun!

This past Sunday night we hosted a perfectly ridiculous Christmas party for friends, opting for a Griswold family vacation movie theme. Ha! I am married to the Clarkiest of Clark, after all. It was silly and lighthearted, a great release of tension for everyone in the midst of a busy season. Everyone brought delicious treats. We played a couple of dumb games. Old friends got caught up and new friends got acquainted. We even surprised the newlyweds in our friends’ group with a one month anniversary cake! They had eloped to Vegas exactly one month before the party, so it was perfect. High fives and big cheers for random, laughter filled parties that eschew tradition a little bit.

One weeknight after work we drove to Oklahoma City to hear Chloe, our oldest niece, play her violin. Her school orchestra has performed every December for several years, and it always sets the holiday tone for me. Our entire local family tries to attend all at once, and we take up a long row, usually right up front. I can hardly stand to think of one or two Christmases from now, when she will have graduated high school and there is no Christmas concert to enjoy. This year they were invited to play at the Oklahoma City University performing arts center, and they treated us to a nearly perfect rendition of Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Stunning! We all had chills. Great job as always, Chloe!

On another night, Cathy, Jessica and I piled into my car to drive to the Community College to watch our youngest niece Kenzie dance a hip hop version of the Nutcracker. If you ever have a chance to see this, friends, secure your tickets and do not look back. How awe-inspiring to watch these talented young people dance their hearts out! And the hip hop was a great twist on a classic story. We loved it. As a bonus, the night we attended was narrated in full Spanish. I am actively relearning Spanish for Jess and Alex, so that was a fun challenge to keep up with what was being said!

As I write this, most of our gifts are wrapped, leaving only the stockings to be stuffed with treasure, plus some baking and a few easy gatherings still to enjoy. I am luxuriating in the freedom to slow down on weeknights and make fun plans for us on weekends, to enjoy the holiday season for all it offers. The fast, the slow, the loud and glittering and the soft spoken and cozy. I am staying home as much as possible, taking time every day to stay centered on the Nativity and really sink into the cold and the dark when it comes. It’s all a gift. And the invitation to be still and accept the gift has never pulsed more vividly.

Do you feel Christmas miracles brewing in the distance? I really do. I feel lots of them building steam to get here at their appointed times, so much so that the traditional gifts and cookies and music are just set dressing. Beautiful decorations for our spirit, to invite us to Enjoy. Rejoice. Choose Joy.

All of this goodness, all of this Soul Cake, already in our bellies, and today is only December 16th. We have so much December still to feast on!

More soon. Till then, happy December! I hope your are celebrating and carpe-ing every single diem to your heart’s content. I hope you are clinging to the miracles you need and crave. Here are a few Advent posts from last year, if you need them:

Choosing HOPE as a strategy

LOVE Week

Another post about HOPE for Advent

XOXOXOXO

the mutual admiration society

The week before last was replete with special events. We finally gathered to celebrate Alex’s 29th birthday. I joined my friend Keri for an evening of sorority fun. We hosted the 6th annual Lazy W Talent Show, Thrift Store Prom style!! And one afternoon that week I drove to the city to attend the Public Utilities Division October team builder. I have great stories from each of these memorable events, but today I want to express some gratitude about the team builder. If my dad catches wind of this, he will chalk it up to an episode of the Mutual Admiration Society.

((with this cutie at the Jim Thorpe Building, Oct 2022))

When Handsome first told me we were both invited to this luncheon, I was excited to bear witness to what I thought would be the group’s loving sendoff to their fearless leader. In case you don’t know, back in May, BW accepted a new position at the Commish, which has gradually meant less and less time with the Public Utilities crew. It’s bittersweet. He has been there for so long, seen so much and been a part of so much history, made so many connections and started more than a few revolutions (my words, not his). He has had myriad opportunities to leave the Commish itself over the years, but it was never a real consideration. He has always felt there was more to do there, and he has been right. By taking this new job, though, he has better opportunity to do more of what he has been doing. Exactly the latitude and support to affect even more real change than before, and everyone is excited. Still, as bittersweet changes go, it means stepping away from the beloved fifth floor.

I am not exaggerating to say that the fifth floor is beloved. The people there in Public Utilities, the work everyone does, ongoing, storm after storm, crisis after crisis, almost always going unrecognized and unappreciated by the citizens and companies under their watchful protection, it all blows my mind. The Public Utilities Division is filled with some of the smartest, most motivated people in Oklahoma. A family of their own, too, in all the ways that a workplace can be a family. My husband loves them, as people and as a little community, an organism. And they love my husband.

I love them too, from a distance. I always relish hearing about the group’s accomplishments and culture shifts. I have been fascinated to see how the team builder tradition has evolved over the years. I admire how they have implemented so many strong policies that ensure the best possible work environment, transparency, cohesiveness, efficiency, you name it. They shine with both excellence and work-life balance.

It’s better than a James Clear newsletter, all respect to Atomic Habits. It’s even better than Adam Grant, and man that’s saying a lot. So I make them lots of cinnamon rolls and cookies to show my admiration.

The belated farewell to him is what I thought we were attending.

How humbling then, when as we sat down for lunch, after trading hugs and greetings with as many people as possible, that they surprised me and took so much time to pour their love out to me, personally. I was not expecting it. I was expecting a creative sendoff to BW, something akin to a retirement farewell, even though he is very much still in the building and involved in their culture. I was not expecting that personal show of Love.

They made me feel appreciated for supporting the man who has done so much for them, and they made that seem important. Valuable. They showed that the love I try to transmit to them has been felt along the way, which makes me so happy. These men and women are captivating to me, whether they know it or not. It’s also gratifying, I have to admit, to sense the far reaching effects of nourishing and supporting my husband so that he can perform well. His performance impacts so many people, and their outpouring connected us, included me in this beautiful fabric.

It all widened what can sometimes feel like a very small, isolated world here at the farm. And hearing from individual people I have been admiring and emulating in private ways just moved my heart. Lesia looked me straight in the eyes and convinced me that I belong to them, and I hope she knows how much I needed to hear that.

Thankfully the group did finally move on to honor BW, ha! I could allow the heat in my face to cool a bit. I could try to hold back tears for him instead of for myself.

What a gift to hear the full spectrum of ways he has impacted people’s lives and careers, their happiness at work, their sense of purpose and personal development. I know how much they mean to him, how invested he has been in them over the years, so it fed my heart mightily to see him honored. They all shared a beautiful euphony of how he has steered the division into a position of leadership and example for the agency at large. It’s good, very good, to have some home team pride, and this group has it. They deserve to be proud of themselves and where they are headed, collectively and individually.

When BW stood to speak to the group, the Love just continued to flow. I felt like we were at church. He mirrored every scrap of appreciation right back to them, and he pointed them straight and true to the future, to the next chapter. He reminded them that they are the ones making everything happen. I sat there beaming inwardly and having a crush on him with every word he spoke, knowing how earnestly he means what he says. Knowing how satisfied he always is by not just the hard work and brilliant results for which PUD is known, but also the culture of respect and appreciation they all foster.

It is a workplace, sure, and a government office at that; but Love reigns there. I felt it that day in overwhelming ways. Love streams through those complex relationships, the projects, the unprecedented challenges, the thrilling solutions. Love buoys them all and delivers them to shores beyond reasonable expectations. This is why I do not worry about the current storms or the unseen ones. Storms always pass, even the scariest ones. Love abides.

After the luncheon and several more hugs and precious conversations which I tucked away in my heart, BW took me around the building to see friends I had not seen in many years and to meet lots of new (to me) faces. The Commission is teeming with talent and passion, and those marble floors and art deco rooms have seen some amazing events. I felt deeply inspired by the end of our tour, and I appreciate my husband sharing so much with me that day.

I am sure looking forward to getting better acquainted with more people from all over the building. I am excited to bake for their meetings and hear their stories, to bear witness to their revolutions and wild, overcoming successes. A lot of glory is on the horizon for Oklahoma and the agencies that support her. How exciting to witness it all.

But Public Utilities will always have my heart. I hope they know that.

((a banner from our summertime PUD event at the farm, I keep it in the Apartment))

Signed,
With much gratitude and very real affection,
Former PUD Homeroom Mom
XOXO

a happy, messy look back at 2021

Closing out the year 2021, I feel maybe more wide-eyed and open-hearted than ever in my life, which is wonderful. I also feel a bit weirded out by how quickly time has been passing. Lots of my friends feel this way, too, about the speeding clock, and theories abound about why this is happening. Whatever the reasons, our days and months seem to be gaining momentum. In the New Year, my remedy for this sensation will be to schedule in more free time, more protected white space for play and spontaneity, and more rest days that I can redeem however I need to at that time, trusting in my overall work product. Trusting that life can and should contain more wiggle room.

Looking back over the past twelve months, I am in awe of all the hard work and dazzled by all of the intense Love. I am deeply grateful for the relief sent our way, for the grace supplied to handle difficulties we have never handled before, and for the fresh inspiration. I feel a gorgeous weaving together of sincere effort and desire, and it is thrilling.

As last year began, we spent time with Handsome’s cousin, Shane, and his beautiful little family, while they were in Oklahoma to bury Shane’s dad, Wes. It was a profoundly sad time but a happy reunion too, and we were thankful everyone was healthy and safe enough to be together. During their stay, Oklahoma was blanketed by snow and the farm was without power for several days, so that was definitely a memory maker! We did our best to cling to New Year’s Eve traditions and have fun outdoors when possible, and we just covered each other in love.

During that visit, while cooking dinner for the group, I received a phone call from Jessica that changed everything. She and Alex had just decided to get married! The engagement was no surprise to us, but their timeline was: They set a date exactly two weeks from the date of that phone call, ha! So we were thrown immediately into some of the most joyful, also the most feverish, most love-drenched planning and farm beautification days ever. Jessica and Alex were the picture of young love and true, warm-hearted family love. They deserve the world. As I type this, these lovebirds are fast approaching their first anniversary!

Handsome and his team at the Public Utilities Division made history with their unrelenting work and fierce, talented attention during Oklahoma’s Polar Vortex and all of the precipitating (no pun intended) energy crises. It was a long, cold, challenging season for them, and I am so proud. He coined the saying, “We’ll keep them alive today so they can hate us tomorrow,” and my smart husband got to be on television press conferences with Oklahoma’s favorite ASL translator. Who remembers this guy?? He was amazing.

We celebrated Easter outdoors with our local family!! The tulips and daffodils were blooming, the sun emerged with extra early heat, and everyone brought their pups. I remember feeling hope for normalcy, something even bigger than the seasonal dose of excitement springtime delivers.

Eventually vaccines rolled out, and we were thankful to partake. Beyond thankful for our health and our family’s health, thankful for the preservation of life so far. We know intimately that not everyone has been so lucky.

Sometime during the warm months last year, I cannot remember exactly when, we finally met some longtime neighbors and struck up a new friendship. Rex and Cathy live down the road from us, and their German shepherd (Max) is a neighborhood celebrity. It was with the excuse that Max and Klaus become buddies that we started talking, and soon enough we all just clicked. It turns out that their (now grown) daughter grew up as best friends with the little girl who grew up here, in our house at the Lazy W (but long before it was the Lazy W, ha)! Rex and Cathy have quickly become two of our favorite people. A very happy development this year.

If I look back on the gardening year of 2021, I will remember mostly flowers. Lots of different lilies, hydrangeas, zinnias and marigolds of course, some sunflowers, shady beds full of soft impatiens, blooming sage, and even roses. Gosh so many roses! I will also remember the castor bean plants that my running friend Mike gifted us in the form of bizarre, prickly, sappy little seed pods. The plants are ultimately sky-scraping, elegant monsters. I will also remember the okra. Oh good grief, those plants produced three times per day all summer long! Okra and tomatoes were the bulk of our little farm’s food production this year. My focus was more on flowers, to make sure we had lots of bouquets for our vow renewal. It was a fun diversion, but I’ll get back to food in 2022.

2021 was the year that we almost lost Rick Astlee, the bully duck, thanks to an attack by Johnny Cash, the bully goose; but Rick convalesced in our bathtub for two weeks and survived to enjoy a happy summer with his guide duck, Mike Meyers Lemon. Klaus was enraptured, and we were relieved. It was also this year that our chickens enjoyed a free range experiment, which we will repeat after winter, once I have figured out how to protect my gardens better.

In spring, Lady Marigold celebrated her first year with us. She has grow daily into a bossy little hand-fed, spoiled rotten, circle-zooming miss fancy pants. We lubb her.

Our nieces and nephews insist on growing up. Chloe has her driver’s license? Connor is speaking Spanish??

Our own beautiful kids are healing and growing in their own ways, both with and without us, proving that we are only vessels or conduits for God’s Love, not the source. He is always the Source.

We learned so much about friendship and family and social evolution, about teamwork and thriving in harmony. Community has taken on new and deeper meaning, as I know many of you will agree.

We celebrated out twentieth wedding anniversary with an outdoor vow renewal, which was definitely postponed once and almost postponed twice, for monsoon-level rainstorms! We were surrounded by friends and family and could not have felt happier or more in love.

Not much travel this past year, despite having tried. Three good trips were all cancelled at the last minute due to covid outbreaks or upswings, but we barely pouted at all. It seems like life at home, on this farm, with each other, has become so nourishing and relaxing that we recharge just fine, right here. We did make one quick getaway to the Palo Duro Canyon area in the panhandle of Texas, which was absolutely enchanting. We enjoyed that quick visit so much, we intend to make a longer adventure of it soon. Rent a cabin, go for long hikes, pack our own groceries to cook, have some no-cell-service kind of romance. We love that it’s a Klaus-friendly trip.

All the hardscape improvements we made to the farm during the first year of pandemic have held up, and this year I think we mostly just added gravel. Lots and lots of gravel, ha! We also bought a zero-turn-radius riding lawn mower, which makes life so much easier. We also hosted the Master Gardeners for a second time at the end of summer, also nearly derailed by a freakish monsoon, but gosh that turned out to be a wonderful memory maker too.

The fifth annual Lazy W Talent Show was a huge success! We hosted it in October and called it “Fright Night,” and everyone brought the Halloween vibes! So much fun. That will go down in history for us.

Mom and Dad hosted Thanksgiving this year, and Gen was in town, wahoo! We were missing Jocelyn, Dante and Deaven, and Joe and Halee and their magical boys (stationed in Spain right now). But we ate their share of turkey and pecan pie and stayed fixed in gratitude for everything and everyone. I will remember Thanksgiving Week 2021 as one especially full of games and laughter, team efforts and shimmering affection for each other.

Christmas was overall the quietest holiday of the year, and honestly we needed it to be that way. It felt restful and intimate, and it gave us time to just soak up Jess and her beautiful little family, and we slept a lot that weekend. My heart has felt comforted and joyful, just as the carol offers.

I ran one speck less than 2,121 miles this year, which means absolutely nothing except that I stayed healthy and consistent, uninjured and very happy, and overall a bit stronger thanks to more regular gym days. I have actual running goals for 2022, wahoo!

Of course there have been heartaches, there always are, and there always will be. But I feel content. Well seasoned. I feel good despite the hard times, or maybe in part because of them. God has grown us so much this year.

Happy New Year, friends. I hope your pain is eased and your joy is rekindled. I hope your faith is stronger than ever. And I hope your dreams begin to come true right before your wide open eyes.

“Open yourself to every possibility,
for there is nothing your heart can imagine
that is not so.”
~This Tender Land,
William Kent Kreuger
XOXOXOXO