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- What growing flowers (and wrangling cats)
What growing flowers (and wrangling cats)
So… I’ve decided to try my hand at gardening again. Specifically, flowers this time. I had this vision of a tiny oasis—wildflowers, maybe some lavender, that kind of romantic chaos you see in Pinterest pictures. The kind of place you’d want to sit with tea and forget the world exists for a while.
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Enter: my cat.
Frankie, in all her fluffy glory, has appointed herself Chief Garden Assistant. Which basically means she follows me out every morning, climbs into the flower beds, and sits directly on top of whatever I just planted. She seems to think her body heat will help things grow. (She’s not wrong about that, technically, but I don’t think seedlings need a full nap schedule on top of them.)
I caught her last week proudly dragging one of the biodegradable seed packets across the yard like it was her latest kill. She then rolled in the mint patch like she was possessed and tried to “hunt” a bumblebee. (The bee won. She’s fine.)
Despite the chaos, or maybe because of it, I’ve been learning a lot.
Gardening isn’t just about flowers. It’s about patience. Trust. Surrender. You do the work—pull the weeds, water the soil, protect your sprouts from curious paws—and then you wait. You hope. You show up again tomorrow.
It reminds me a lot of healing, actually.
We try the supplement. Start the morning routine. Try to get more sleep. We “plant the seeds,” but we don’t always see the blooms right away. And when a bad week—or a mischievous cat—messes things up, it’s tempting to just give up. But we don’t. We adjust, and we try again. Maybe we build a little fence this time. Maybe we move the mint.
The flowers will come. The balance will return. But only if we keep showing up.
So if you’re in a season of trying—trying to feel better, trying to start fresh, trying not to lose your mind while someone steps on your progress—you’re not alone. I’m right there with you, covered in dirt, planting hope again.
And Frankie? She’s currently sleeping in a planter box. She’s not helpful, but she is cute. And really, some days that’s enough.
Wishing you soft mornings, something in bloom, and a cat that doesn’t dig up your basil.
P.S. If you’re working on tending to yourself this season, I’ll be sharing some of my favorite little wellness rituals soon—ones that feel as cozy and grounding as garden soil between your fingers. Keep an eye out 💛

