Lazy W Marie

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

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Friday 5 at the Farm, Gifts of Staycation

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!

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

fresh homegrown watermelon oklahoma
zinnia in august

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

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

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

garden check in, mid august

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

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

me and my giant parsley branches…xoxo

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

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

summer shade garden in mid august, where the chickens play

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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