When it comes to gardening, I gave up on my dream of a yard with patches of thriving vegetables and sprawling colorful perennials years ago. I’ve got the space and the sunlight, but I learned two things the first summer in my house (as well as the second and the third and the fourth, because I always tell myself “this year will be different”): 1. I’m not that great at keeping up with it all, and 2. I apparently have an army of furry (but adorable) creatures who can clean out my gardening efforts in the blink of an eye … many times pulling entire plants out by the roots and taking off with them. Perhaps they’re putting together their own little garden in some far away magical forest ... filled with vegetables and perennials no doubt. (I’m feeling a picture book coming on.) Because of this, every August, my garden winds up looking like a empty mess of dirt and pots filled with half dead plants. That’s when I VOW I WILL NOT DO THIS AGAIN NEXT YEAR. But then spring comes with its warm weather and blooming trees and … and suddenly this happens: A girl has to have some flowers, right? And there are NO vegetables this year. NONE (Hear that bunnies?) While some of these are for the front yard, which always seem to grow despite my gross neglect, the rest are for pots for the backyard. That’s not even technically a garden, that’s pots. Totally different. And also … well … this year is going to be different. That’s all. Here’s to a successful planting season! Xo, Karen P.S. A few of the perennials I put in my first summer did survive. Here's my favorite rose bush to prove it.
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Happy Friday! It's been a busy week here with the kittens. Before I get started on our adventures, I want to briefly answer a message I received recently: YES, I am still writing! A long overdue book/writing update is in the works for my newsletter and blog … promise! But first, let's talk about my furry foster family.
When I first typed this out, it was long -- really long. So here are the highlights of the week. Plus I know you're really here for the pictures - here's one to get you started: That's right, I've started fostering kittens! But the story really starts on a Thursday. Actually, it starts about two years ago when I picked up an application to foster kittens. I don't have any idea what day of the week that was, but let's just say it was a Friday. It could have been. The application sat on my desk for a good long while, until I finally submitted it this spring. Fast forward to a week ago Thursday. That's when I got the call: "Hello? Is this Karen Pokras? Would you be able to take in four bottle fed babies? They're just a couple of days old. Can you come get them tomorrow?" Just to clarify, we're talking about kittens, not humans. Also, I said okay. Then I hung up the phone and wondered what exactly I just I just agreed to. Then I watched a million YouTube videos on caring for newborn kittens (Thank you Kitten Lady!) The next day, I cleaned my entire house from top to bottom in anticipation of their arrival - as if I were expecting the most discerning company. I have no explanation for this. I went to go pick them up. I received a hands-on lesson on neonate kitten care, bottle feeding supplies, and a box of four squiggly furry jellybeans. Here's the thing about three day old orphan kittens: they have to be bottle-fed every two hours ROUND THE CLOCK. I took solace in knowing that every week this time frame would stretch out by an hour and that eventually they'd switch to soft food. Plus, someone had done this for my orphaned fur babies, and I really wanted to give back. Somewhere around the 4am feeding I may have even mumbled to myself, "This was your idea." I powered through, but it was only the first night.
Or I should say I made two things! This could also be titled: That Time I Needed A Good Night Sleep. Or That Time I Tried to Get a Good Night Sleep. Okay fine, I’ll quit rambling and get right to the point. Like all good ideas, this one started when I fell down the Pinterest rabbit hole. Here’s what happened: I was waiting for my 12 year old to get his hair cut the other day while simultaneously yawning (me not my son) because, if you have pets, you know the struggle. It doesn’t matter how big your bed is, those furry friends want to sleep in your spot, smashed up against you, or on you. And it’s cute and cuddly when you’re just falling asleep and those little balls of fur are all purr-y and cozy. But then at some point during the night they turn into logs made out of concrete, making it impossible for you to move even a micro-millimeter. And just when you’ve managed some kind of bizarre super-human 4 a.m. strength to re-adjust them, they decide to it’s time to get up and play, and you wish you had let them stay sleeping. That’s when I saw some super cute hand crocheted cat beds and thought, AHA! I can make those and of course my cats will love them, and we’ll all sleep tight forever and always. Or something like that. All I know is, as soon as my son’s haircut was finished, we were headed to the craft store to purchase 4lbs of bulky yarn. That’s how fast the Pinterest bug strikes. Beware. Like all things on Pinterest, it’s never as easy as it looks. There’s a windowsill in my kitchen. It’s the one above my sink. The one where I keep the knickknacks, the trinkets, the plant that I always forget to water, the clay creations my children have given me over the years, and the wishbones from meals past. It’s not that I’m a hoarder of wishes, it’s just that I’m forgetful. I put them up there to dry out and forget all about them- even though they’re right there ... in front of my face several times a day when I’m standing at the sink. This weekend though for some reason I noticed them - and I decided I needed a wish. I called my 12 year old son into the kitchen and explained how the magic of the wishbone worked.
"We each think of a wish," I explained. "But only silently. Then you concentrate on that wish real hard so that the magic of the wish makes its way to the top of the bone - into that flat pointy part. Then we each grab an end and pull. Whoever winds up with the top gets their wish!" After looking at me like I was nuts, he agreed to play along. But what would I wish for? What does one wish for when given the opportunity for a single grand wish? |