summertime

late summer garden care & self care

July 31, 2025

Hey friends! How are you, and if you are growing a garden this summer, how’s that going? I’m feeling better than I have in a long time, thanks truly for asking, and my gardens are surprising me daily with their resilience and beauty. Nothing is perfect. Not life, not my tomatoes, certainly not my fruit trees; but all of it is more miraculous and more deeply satisfying than I sometimes dare to dream.

((Chanta, age 26, and Klaus age 10, overseeing my greenhouse activities.))

The other day I was giving some thought to late summer best practices in the garden. I have the immense pleasure and privilege of guiding Jessica through her own growing adventures, though she needs me less and less these days, and I want very much to save her from the common overwhelm gardeners tend to experience this time of year. So I distilled my thoughts into five points and readied them for sending.

As I read over my advices, it occured to me that all the wisdom I would hope to share with a fellow gardener also applies neatly and unironically to just people. Self care, as it turns out, looks a lot like gardening.

We are tending things, after all. We are tending our relationships and our health, both physical and emotional. We are tending our communities and careers and more. Cultivating, just like we do outside. Planting new seeds some days, watering, fertilizing, pulling weeds, pruning, rearranging. I love the reminders that human beings are not machines; that we have different and shifting needs day to day, just like the garden does.

Let’s go.

ONE: Water Deeply. Insted of sprinkling water on just the surface of the soil, water the roots deeply and gently. Do it in the evening if possible, when the temperatures have been dangerously hot, so your plants can spend the nighttime moving that moisture around and greet the new day refreshed. Then water again the next day if needed. Without overwatering, just make sure your plants are fully hydrated. Similarly, if you are in a hard season of life, I think going deep on a regular basis with what refreshes you is important. Read scripture if that’s precious to you. Read anything that centers and cools you on a cellular level. Choose to actually read instead of scroll the internet. Reach for the dopamine that counts, is what I try hard to remember. Spend meaningful amounts of time with people who help you feel as close to heaven as possible. Do work that is uniquely satisfying, all the way to your roots. Shun the cheap, easy, surface stuff. It will train your roots too close to what will kill them.

TWO: FEED. Take time in August to feed your plants, especially your vegtables. All that deep watering can leach the soil of good nutrients, and growing and producing food takes lots of energy. I add gorgeous black farm compost between and among my plants all throughout the growing season. I also feed myself well, too, especially in hard times. Not just comfort food, but all the things that I know will actually help my mind and body cope wth whatever is going on. Nutrition keeps us strong and resilient when we are overtaxed, and the right foods and supplements keep us productive.

THREE: HARVEST & PRUNE CONSTANTLY. It’s crazy to me how easy it is to forget to collect the literal fruits of our labor. The hours and days can pass so quickly, and maintenance often seems more important. But lifiting tomatoes from the vine or cutting a joyful bouquet of flowers is not just our prize; it’s also a wonderful way to lighten the load on our plants. Make it a regualar habit to carry a basket and snips, walking around your garden cutting off fruits and vegetables, pruning suckers, topping leggy vines, and deadheading flowers. Pruning and trimming makes everything look so fresh and well kept, and it returns a shocking amount of energy to the plant rather than signaling that its life cycle has been completed. Does this resonate in other parts of your life? To me it does. I want to fully enjoy the gifts given to me, first of all, leaving nothing to rot on the vine. I want to see clearly what is being offered, day after day, every season, and accept those gifts joyfully! I also want to prune away what is finished. Remove parts of me or my routine that no longer serve the greater vision, so all that valuable energy can be reinvested. This part can be hard, because once I find a comfortable routine I am unlikely to vver off course, ha! But I have found it useful to reevaluate constantly to make sure I am choosing habits wisely, ones that serve me and my family well. Our life cycles, just as in the garden, can be either stunted or lengthened by our habits. I vote for continued beauty and abundance.

FOUR: LOOK FOR BLANK SPACE. Naturally, for a myriad of reasons, some gardens have more blank space than others. Some years do, too, some schedules and seasons. That’s natural. In my new “Summer Garden” as I have named her, there is still oodles of available growing space, mostly because back in April I carved out the beds and planted kind of in a rush. You can see all the grass between the skinny rows, below. It’s year one here, so I have spent lots of time just watching and learning her. I see gaps and opportunities, and I may still sneak in a few fast growing fall crops. In other gardens here at the farm, blank space is harder to spot, and it’s so fun to find ways to freshen up a view you’ve grown used to. The point is to look for openings and opportunities. Protect them then press them into service. Be on watch for what your imagination craves, both in your garden and in your life, and remember that you are the gardener. If you want something, figure out how to grow it. Plant the seeds. Bring it to fruition. Blank space is such a gift.

((My Summer Garden in her first year, July 2025))

FIVE: STAY ENGAGED. August in Oklahoma can be challenging, but it’s far from the end of the season. And most years, just when you think you cannot sweat through one more weed pulling chore or cry over one more grasshopper or haul the thousand pound water hose any more, the weather shifts, just enough. A new flush of tomato blossoms appears. The grass softens under a surprise rainfall. The lettuce grows sweet and bright again, and we rememeber, just like we did last August, that it was just a little while that we had to suffer. Hard times always end. Refreshment always comes. And most importantly, I try to remember that no matter what is happening in August, it is everything I dream of and long for in February. Whatever life difficulty and uphill effort is folded into dreams come true, they are still immeasurable blessings. Don’t wish any of it away, not one detail. Stay awake and enganged for it all. It will make you a better gardener, and it will set your garden far apart from what it would have been otherwise.

This is what I am sharing with my beautiful Jessica, and it’s what I would share with you if you came to my garden to chat and maybe get a pep talk. It’s also what I need to hear myself sometimes, when the endurance of a hard season slows me to a crawl.

Water your roots deeply. Feed yourself well. Collect all the gifts available to you then edit ruthlessly the parts that are dead. Look for blank space to grow new beauty. And, at all costs, stay awake and engaged.

Friday 5 at the Farm, Gifts of Staycation

July 18, 2025

Our 24th anniversary staycation has been wonderful. A long summertime spell. All of it together has been just what we both needed, which is simply lots and lots of uninterrupted normal life, mostly alone. We feel so lucky! Including today we still have four days to redeem, and every timeif I occassionally feel myself dipping into sadness about Handsome returning to the office soon, I have to laugh. We still live together, ha! And that work-life balance has improved so much that it’s less of a thing to dread than before. But we do treasure this set-aside time.

Since today is Friday, I wrangled my thoughts into a Friday 5 at the Farm style post to mark the week. Hope you enjoy it!

5 Gifts of Staycation!

ONE: Time and Freedom. We consciously chose not to schedule much this week and to take our days, even the segments within each day, as they came, just following our energy levels and appetites. We had a vivid need to not be over committed and splintered among several obligations or outside time frames, and abiding by that agreement to each other has yielded such a fresh and healing sense of deep relaxation. We have felt safe and free for the first time in a long time. Some days we used that freedom to go on spontaneous dates; sometimes we used that freedom to take midday swims and naps and watch movies under fuzzy blankets We also used the time and freedom to work around the farm, but it was always because we wanted to, not because we were responding to an emergency or balancing someone else’s time frame. It feels completely different, as I’m sure you know. We got admirably good this week at being honest with each other about what we actually wanted to do every day, ha! And I am proud of us for sticking to this simple plan.

TWO: Laughter and Romance. Time alone and freedom of movement have a magical effect on connection. They foster and deepen it. We are always pretty great at grabbing fun and romance in small doses all throughout normal life, but man. Once in a while it sure is nice to absolutely simmer in each other. Choosing to stay home instead of travel was easier on Klaus, too. He spent most of every day with us, of course, and was one happy boy.

THREE: Food! We are eating well, friends. ha! Don’t you worry about us. All week we have enjoyed a nice mix of restaurant indulgences and home cooked meals, and it’s been fun. One standout for me was a spontaneous stop at a Greek place in north OKC. I could eat that exact plate of food once a week and never get tired of it. I think he was especially happy we remembered how to make beef enchiladas with red sauce, which was dinner yesterday. Lots of yummy small bites here and there, including Baskin Robbins ice cream and a huge watermelon chopped up and waiting in the fridge at all hours.

((loaded with kalmatta olives, peppers, feta, and everything))

FOUR: Farm Improvements and Hobbies. We are soon adding a new building to the upper east and south side of the farm, and to prepare for that Handsome has been leveling the sandy ground there and spreading rocks and rocks and more rocks with his tractor. That’s largely what he did most mornings when I went for a run. We (the Victorian we, if you’re keeping score) also began the process of installing a split unit air conditioner to our upstairs bedroom. I did some fun sewing one day (not a farm project exactly, but a timely one, that helped me feel caught up). The gardens are looking great! Weeds pulled and grooming and watering caught up, compost distributed, all of it just getting massaged and loved on daily. What a gift to have time to spend outside and still be with my boy. We’ve been reading (I finished 3 books!) and watching movies and everything we enjoy doing, in big gulps, not nibbles. It’s the best.

FIVE: Commemoration. One of our creative projects this week was a private painting night, which I will not be sharing here but which is worth mentioning for posterity. The End.

Happy Anniversary to the love of my life and my favorite person to spend time with, especially at our beautiful farm, especially in summer. I am so thankful that this normal life we have built is exactly the indulgence we both craved this week.

“Some will fall in love with life
and drink it from a fountain
That is pouring like an avalanche
Comin’ down the mountain.”
~Pepper, 1996
XOXO

friday 5 at the farm, welcome summer!

June 21, 2025

It is Friday, June 20th, and I keep checking and rechecking the calendar to see if that’s right. We are smack dab at the front gates of Summertime in Oklahoma, friends. They are flung open. We have finally arrived, and we have fancy supreme guest passes and wristbands for all the best rides plus unlimited snacks till after hours and beyond. Welcome! Let’s DO THIS.

01. WEATHER Our beautiful state has received one million inches of rain since spring sprung a while back, and honestly we are all just equal parts thankful that drought is suddenly an ancient memory and also kind of sick of talking about the rain. Because, in case you don’t know, it’s been a lot more than just rain. It’s been a few solid months of severe weather, and we are worn thin, ha! But we’re simultaneously thankful, I’m sure you know that harmony song by heart, too. A few days ago the lush, pulsing heat and brilliant sunshine reappeared after so many dark weeks. The swimming pools are bathwater-warm, overnight. The days are now divided by task and errand according to the temperature and relative humidity, which are now both high from daybreak till after dark. It is everything we wish for in the bitter end of February, so I am pressing the details, even the sweaty, smothering ones, deeply into my skin and memory.

02. PEOPLE We recently filled the farm with about two dozen of Oklahoma’s finest state employees to celebrate their graduation from a leadership program. It was a gorgeous day, weather wise, and a gathering that filled our hearts. What in incredible gift to become acquainted with so many accomplished, ambitious, but still very down to earth Oklahomans. A few days after that we shut the gates tight in order to focus on two VIP guests, our Navy Nephews! My little brother has officially retired from a long and storied career as a navy officer, so he and his wife (one of my best friends) are putting down roots right here in Oklahoma. They sent their cute boys “home” a bit early so they could pack up their house and wrap up loose ends in Virginia. The boys and I had a fun day together! We swam, baked homemade chocolate chip cookies, tried to make those cookies into ice cream sandwiches, swam some more, made art, and all went forty percent feral. The teenager of the pair is saving to buy a car, so I paid him to mow one of the yard areas. He did a fantastic job! I hope it was just one of many summer days with them.

03. ANIMALS Our beloved Farmily has been coping well with the weather. The four leggeds have been feasting on green grass, but noone has been sick from it. They have all shed their winter coats, too, and the horses have farrier appointments (with my husband) coming soon. Rhett spends lots of time every day in the pond. Scarlett, when she is not in the mood to join him, stands on the bank and bellows for him to get OUT already. It’s so cute. He usually obeys her and can soon be spotted licking her face, neck, and back. The flock is somewhat diminished right now, just from old age, but we are still getting about four eggs per day from the nine hens. My youngest girl is eleven and still laying! I pump them all up so hard, to sure they know what a rock stars they are. Johnny Cash the elderly gentleman gander is hashtag-thriving. He swims constantly and supervises everyone like it’s his job. Because it is. Klaus is living his best life, too. His social calendar is actually richer and more complex than my own, ha! He plays with Charlie from next door pretty often, which he abslutely loves. You should see the way they smile when they see each other. He entertains family dogs whenever possible, and he has become accustomed to a one mile sniff-ari wth Max and Sadie a couple times per week, early morning please, before it gets hot. When he asks to go but we can’t for some reason, he gives me the saddest look imaginable. Between those moments of abject dsappointment, though, rest assured that King Klaus is one happy camper. He keeps me safe in the garden and in the pool, and he likes watching his Daddy do tractor activities.

04. GARDENS I can practically hear the gardens growing now. Once the sun magically reappeared, it was like jet fuel on everything. Now I walk around noticing new, unreasonably altitude in bean vines and corn, new blooms in flower beds, and generally more life in every nook and cranny, all over the farm. I have a lot of weeding and cleaning ahead of me, and I labsolutely ove it. Weeding is one of my favorite rituals, for many reasons. Maintenance season is infinitely soothing to me.

((This is a before photo. Check in soon for the After!))

05. INSPIRATION Between listening and reading, I have enjoyed several great novels this past month or so, but for inspiration I am rereading Atomic Habits plus a new to me memoir called Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs. You’re probably familiar with the former book, by James Clear. If not, I strongly recommend reading it. Own it, actually, so you can make notes and reread it periodically. The latter is by Heather Lende, an author who survived a horrific accident and found enough “family, friendship and faith” in her small Alaska comminuty to write about it. I love stories like this. I have also discovered a performance and mindset coach on IG named Alexis Wilson. She shares exactly the kind of thought training I crave, even if I don’t lean toward entrepaneurship. Check her out.

“The fruit of your character isn’t just in your garden;
it’s in what grows in the lives around you.”
~Alexis WIlson
XOXOXO

Okay, summer people. Here’s what I mean by wristbands and flung open gates: This is just a season. It is bursting with physical pleasure and sensational indulgences. The days can be long and demanding but also long and luxurious. Let’s squeeze every drop we can from as many consecutive days and weeks as possble.

Let’s get outside extra early if our schedules allow it. For me that means doing housework and laptop work in the heat of the day while Klaus naps, ha! Let’s swim a LOT and even get our hair WET. Let’s eat watermelon until we think we have slightly overdone it. Let’s grill at least half of our meals outside then give each other bonus points for eating them outside. Let’s wear swimsuits and our husband’s discarded button up shirts all over town. Let’s wear hats to the store and not apologize for it, on account of our chlorine soaked hair. And while we’re at the store, let’s remember to grab a bottle of leave-in conditioner.

Let’s sneak outside at dusk to watch the bats hunt then stay till true dark to count fireflies. Let’s plant everything we can get our muddy little hands on, take photos of it all, even the weeds, and allow it to nourish us. Roast some marshmallows. Get a tan if you are so inclined. Wear obnoxious colors. Watch JAWS in the pool if you can swing it!

Starting immediately, I want to only smell like bug spray and suncreen, chlorophyll, chlorine, fruit, and horses. I am fine with being mildly uncomfortable if it means I am exhausting my body on summertime work and summertime play. I intend to get to the lake a few times and go hiking in the Wichita Mountains. I am planning cookouts and lots of easy silliness.

I hope you have these good plans or better ones brewing, friends. We made it. Welcome. Enjoy!

“The more wishes you make, the more beautiful Fantasia will be.”
~Neverending Story
XOXOXO

late summer beauty and reminders

August 15, 2024

By mid August I often feel confused about what my job is, about what is priority in the gardens and with the animals, about how it all relates to the outside world, and, crucially, what to do with my hair. I suspect this slightly unmoored feeling is generally owed to a stack of conflicting energies: Most of the world is hot with Back to School Fever, while the pool is still blue and I could eat at least four more watermelons. Also, our family is in a dense Happy Birthday season, with parties and special days left and right, while many members are enduring some damaging and deeply worrisome crises. We try to prop each other up and stay engaged with reality; and we work to celebrate and keep things moving, too, like always. Joy and grief and work and play, all at once. The delicious, brackish water we know so well.

Things are shifting, I can feel it. The same way things shift toward the end of winter, when we get a glimpse of change but then it all buckles down again to remind us we are not in control. An early thaw then a late freeze, that trick. At mid August we might get a glimpse of more serious color in the landscape, tighter, cloudier skies and just barely less daylight after supper, but we are still firmly gripped by summer. Our cars are still ovens for the commute home, and tomato vines refuse to produce new flowers until nighttime temperatures relax. We know that October is there waiting for us, just like April always follows closely after Februrary, but the weeks between could mean anything. So the moment matters greatly. How we spend it, how we feel about it, how we infuse it with meaning.

I feel all at once stifled and ready for change but also panicked, regretful and sad for the season soon ending.

I feel the loss of aggressive sunshine and limited clothing as well as excitement for autumn plans and traditions.

I feel the stunning passage of time as well as deep gratitude for the health of our animals and closeness of friends and family.

I feel like a failure for all the things I did not accomplish in my garden this year but this overwhelming amazement for what happens out there with very little intervention from me. I also feel childlike joy over the garden our girl has grown at her own home. There is nothing like watching that adventure take root.

I feel so happy for all the peace and stability our home has provided all summer long, for people and visiting pups and resident four leggeds alike; and simultanously I hope we travel a bit more in coming years. I hope we rediscover how to play and pause work and worry. I hope our calendar next year includes lots of time off for my husband.

I feel safe and loved and clear eyed about the future but also empty in the way that only a missing loved one can make you feel. It’s always hard to acknowledge that another season, and soon another year, has passed with out her. I have mostly learned to stop setting timelines on God, but occassionally the length of this hard season takes my breath away.

I feel like I spend so much of my waking hours on cemented daily routines, and while they serve us really well, when time feels suddenly precious I crave to break it up.

And so I find my paperback journal and write Senses Inventories, gluing the details of my moments to paper. I make lists of clear, specific blessings and prayers recently answered. I let it all build a crackling, electric awareness of and confidence in the beauty of my life. Life right now, life as the exact and unique gift that has been given. It’s a transformative exercise. It wakes me up and helps me shed the heavier feelings of this in-between season.

And I take lots of extra walks around the farm, with little expectation to be productive. Just looking and absorbing and remembering that this beautiful, imperfect, chaotic little rectangle of Oklahoma is our home. It is a childhood dream come to life, the details of which I barely have shared with anyone over the years, and it is okay for me to accept and enjoy it. In fact, I really should.

I try to see the gardens from new angles and internalize the shapes and colors for what they are according to Creation, not for how they measure against a list of jobs or design advice on some website. I try to rest in the long series of miracles that must happen just in the process of one tiny cosmos seed becoming this five foot tall, ethereal, glossy, fernlike, mysterious widlflower. Also, does anyone else get tranfixed by the word “cosmos” being used both for this pefect flower and for outer space, for all of creation?

When I feel like I have been sleepwalking through routines, I slow down and let Klaus lead the way without rushing him, instead of expecting him to keep up behind me. I pay attention to what he sees and what makes him smile, remembering his first puppy summers and how much he loves this farm, his home. His kindgom. How much all the animals trust him.

I take deep breaths and inhale the basil and manage to laugh at how I always expect the cute little bed shapes I plan in April to stay tidy and petite all the way through August.

I spend more play time with the horses and let them come to me, which they always do. I hug them and wait for them to them let go first, as the saying goes, accepting their massive necks on my shoulder and not fearing for my toes near their hooves. I give thanks for their health a thousand times per day and smell them and feed them extra apples and carrots and kiss them excessiveley when they accept fly spray. I listen to their complicated whinnying language and do my best to whinny back correctly. I look into Dusty’s eyes especially and wonder if he remembers her, if they talk to each other. I look into Chanta’s eyes and tell him thank you for being so gentle with children and small animals.

To stop time, I do my best to pause and text my frends when they cross my mind. We are all busy. Everyone. But my gosh life is rich because of our friends! I hope they feel how treasured they are.

I try to apply thought to details that connect my past to Jessica’s future, like morning glories. LIke so many plants and recipes and books and rituals. I remember her as a toddler so easily, like my mother surely remembers me. And the strands just grow and grow.

I make note of the many pleasures and comforts of living in a small town near other small towns with easy access to big cities, when the mood strikes. It’s common enough to moan about the inconveniences, but I always crave to get home as fast as I can. It’s my paradise. I know it all is such a lavish gift. I know that each animal is a once-in-a-lifetime friendship with a real soul and that their trust is no accident. So I try to hold their gaze as ling as they offer it.

It’s blazing hot now, and windy, and my feet are very tired and my hair needs a miracle and I have packed the next few weeks with about 27% more than it can easily bear. But it’s all perfect. Life is beyond good. I can actively will the clock to slow down just enough to catch my breath, and I can trade the moments and days for glittering jewels, while they are still up for grabs.

To put a dent in time, do things that time can’t take away.
XOXOXOXO

stream of consciousness, early july 2022

July 5, 2022

I have been in one of those pleasant storms of coincidence lately, one of those brief and lovely seasons that feeds you layer upon layer of soul food, from a surprising variety of sources, at just the right moments. Books, interviews, conversations, and spiritual affirmations have been flooding me for several weeks, and I am so grateful. I’m trying my best to harness it all, to capture not just the words and themes but also the symphony of sources, because that has been much of the beauty. I feel humbled to receive encouragement from people I respect and love. I feel thrilled to discover actionable ideas from people who know more than me about things I care deeply about. And I feel hopeful that I am on the right path, maybe more than ever before. This all is a full spectrum pleasure, a refreshment and fortification which I have desperately needed.

In between it all, summer is in full swing in Oklahoma. Most days, the work at hand entails just keeping the farm alive and hydrated, animals safe in the extreme heat, gardens somewhat productive, beautiful enough to enjoy privately. We are very much at that point of the year when I find it hard to remember what a deep freeze feels like. The other day I dug around for something in a coat closet, moved a pair of winter boots, and laughed at how far away it seems that I was spending five minutes bundling up in layers just to go do one quick round of frigid feedings or habitat checks.

The book How to Do Nothing by Jenny O’Dell happened across my path right as I was losing my appetite for the trappings of social media. Not losing my appetite for connection, just the junk and noise of it all. You know. This book deserves a full review, which I will share soon. Then Red Dirt Kelly, my friend and a brilliant woman we feel lucky to know, invited me and two other women specifically to read a unique book by Ada Calhoun, Also a Poet. This book is bearing more heavily on me than I could have guessed it would, and I am very excited to soon meet my two new friends, hug Kelly, and discuss the first half next Saturday. Also a Poet is almost a biography within a biography, or a memoir within a biography, or something like that. Fascinating characters and clean, insightful prose. Mostly, it has fully rekindled my desire and calling to write.

Then I had a waking dream just as I was finishing up a round of antibiotics for (probably) salmonella poisoning. It had to do with book cover art, and my hands shook as I told my husband about it.

We had another brief health scare with Chanta. He is a sturdy but undeniably aging horse, and gosh we love him. Every year we love him more, and every year he seems to slow down a bit, which is to be expected. Maybe I need to get him to read Ageless Body, Timeless Mind by Deepak Chopra? Anyway, this threw me into more equine reading material, which actually calmed my heart so much. Our horses are doing great, all things considered. And we will give them the best possible days for as long as possible. This all led me to send a thank you to our friend Tracy who is always there to answer horse questions when we have them. Then I started reflecting on all the many questions I have been able to answer for gardening friends. Which led me to think again, and more gleefully, about how good the world is because so many people dive headlong in their passions. I want to be a lifelong learner of as many good topics and skills as possible.

Perhaps, like me, you are noticing more and more “prepper” advice in mainstream media. Lots of people are responding to rising food process and interrupted supply chains with foreboding advice about growing and preserving, hoarding, prepping, saving, you name it. IIt often feels unnecessarily panicky to me, but then I admit to having an allergy to fear mongering and anger generators. It seems like we have enough of those two types of energy to keep us alert, you know? Victory gardens, sure. Yes to growing a garden, no matter what your economic status, yes to learning a few new skills no matter what your upbringing. And actually I think this generation has many advantages over our great grandparents, who survived the Depression and World Wars. We have more general and specialized knowledge, we have a communal sense of urgency, and we have recent history to show us the dangers of soil depletion, chemicals, and monocropping, among other things. In order to harness the edge I believe we have, all we really need to do is slash distractions, go deeper instead of broader, and get to work. Be resourceful, creative, and diligent.

This is where How to Do Nothing was so useful to my thinking. That we can accept the invitation to live according to our natural design and just use technology as a tool, not let it rule over us. That we can reclaim long stretches of time, immediately, for our own private consumption, owing nothing to anyone, is just a luscious, greedy, deliriously happy idea to me. I love it. I am here for it, as the kids might still say.

Do the kids still say things? Or are they too sad, as a group?

Overnight, we lost Rick Astlee, the one eyed duck. We are heartbroken, as we always are to lose any farm-ily member. He was special. He survived ice storms and bathtubs residencies. He chose to live with the flock when given the opportunity to float on the pond. He survived that goose attack, of course, which is what left him one eyed and limited in navigation skills. He had a best friend named Mike Meyers Lemon, who must be even more sad than I am today. Handsome and I are thankful to have had that beautiful little boy for as long as we did, but we are definitely going to miss him. He is buried in the front field, in wildflowers alongside the meditation path.

In happier news, today the llamas enjoyed a long, drenching afternoon beneath the sprinkler. Romulus especially luxuriated in the water, and it made me happy to walk out and see him standing or lounging in the spray. All day he turned his body and let his woolly self get soaked. Little Lady Marigold seemed offended by the offer, honestly.

Look closely and you might be able to see the water spray headed for Romulus.
It reached Meh, too.

So much can change in such small windows of time. We are constantly on the knife edge of transformation, even if it often seems like change takes forever. Miracles happened constantly, sometimes overnight. One phone call, one bold decision, one enthusiastic mindset shift or eye to eye conversation can be what triggers a detour to a better storyline, and I love that. Keep chipping away at your biggest desires. Keep dreaming them and believing in them. Pray, too, as you work. Imagine them perfectly fulfilled.

In my garden, in my marriage, in our family, in our community… With hopes and dreams to be what we were designed to be, to live more fully and love more deeply, I want every drop of it.

More soon, friends. Thanks so much for dropping in.

If these words can do anything
if these songs can do anything
I say bless this house
with stars
Transfix us with love
-Joy Harjo
XOXOXO

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