1 Year later and I'm Turning Into My Mother

Facebook has informed me that I have been married for exactly one year!

What does it feel like? Not that different, actually. It just feels like the next step down the path that Alex and I have chosen for ourselves. We still make time for each other just like we did when we were dating, and we still hang out with our friends apart from each other.

What has changed the most is the surroundings, honestly. My blog post about my wedding was written in a apartment, this one is written in a house. I wrote about my wedding with the darling cat of my childhood purring next to me, I write this with a pair of kittens sprawled on the other side of the couch, a couple of new lives as we begin a new chapter of our own.

Instead of having to save the top tier, our bakery gave us a free anniversary cake

Home ownership has brough out things about me that I had forgotten about. I remember now how much I loved having a bird feeder to look at, and how I loved identifying the birds (and the squirrels) as they came to snack. I used to do chores in the yard and garden regularly. I haven't used any of that knowledge in years, and here I am, regaling Alex with the proper care of tomato plants. This proves to me that the dreaded fate of the daughter is coming true: I am turning into my mother!

Mother's Day is fast-approaching, so let me tell you about my mother, and why I am turning into her. My mother raised a garden all through my childhood and to this day. Every day, she was happy to see the little plants progress, tending them until they were ready to harvest and enjoy. I remember her calling me to the garden to show me an exceptionally large squash or an oddly-shaped tomato.

As anyone who gardens can attest, no one grows a garden just for themselves, not unless you are deeply passionate about grilled zucchini. If you have a garden you share. My mother was no exception, foisting buckets of zucchini, jars of salsa, and bags of green beans off onto anyone who would take them. We made zucchini bread, scones, and a decadent chocolate zucchini cake that I remember to this day. Even after all of that, we still had extra vegetables. I was given free reign to smush up old cucumbers, zucchini, and tomatoes at my grandparents' cabin, making a huge, mushy mess to dump in the lake.

At the time, I didn't fully appreciate the joys of gardening. It was hot, and the mosquitos found me delicious. It seemed like a lot of work, the kind of work that leaves one sweaty and mud-streaked. But when Alex and I were looking at houses, we were also looking at back yards. When Alex and I looked out the back door of the house that would be ours, I said "This would be great for a garden."

A garden I wanted, and a garden I would have. I dove into research and constructed raised beds to alleviate the problems of the north Texas clay-packed soil. I built the boxes and asked for assistance hauling in mulch and soil. I selected plants and carefully placed them in the beds. And I waited.

Anyone who knows me knows that I like things to happen quickly. If I am given a chore, it's done within hours. If I decide to plan a vacation, I have flights priced out in minutes. If I decide to build a costume, I've already got a plan and I'm brainstorming how to make the character on the screen abide by the laws of physics enough to make a costume possible. But you know what gardening takes? Time. Patience. *Sigh* Sometimes I feel like God played a joke on me, putting a desire to garden in a brain that doesn't like to wait. I've always thought of my mother as a patient person (she raised four kids, if she wasn't patient before, she is now), so like my mother, I was patient, and I found that the waiting wasn't as hard as I thought. I found joy in stomping out to the garden every day to look at the progress. I stared at my little plants, wondering "is that a new leaf? Are they getting taller?"

I marveled at the natural processes so finely tuned by the Creator. I hoped that I had set up the boxes correctly, that the soil would support my fast-growing vegetables. At this point, I am more observer than keeper. My back yard has been blessed with rain every week, meaning I barely have to water, a rarity in this part of the country. I weed and ensure that my plants remain unbothered by pests. And they grow, they do all the work. I call Alex over to show him my first zucchini as it grows seemingly an inch every day, and to ramble about my plan to turn these tiny green tomatoes into salsa when they grow fat and red. Just like my mother used to do to me. I am turning into my mother.

And I get it. I want to share this garden, too. I want to make that rich zucchini cake again, and offer my friends extra tomatoes. I have enjoyed conversing with my mom on the joys of gardening, asking her what kitchen scraps to save for composting, and even giving her tips like using a hose timer for consistent watering.

I'm not sure if my other knew it at the time, but when she was asking me for help picking green beans and explaining how far apart to plant the peas, she was planting another kind of seed. A seed of appreciation for the simple act of growing food. And that appreciation has given me a hobby that yields more than just a fine homemade salsa. As the plants grow, I am working to grow patience. I am appreciating the beauty of life as it erupts from the ground. Humanity has gardened for millennia, and I'm just continuing the tradition. Sounds pretty grand for a back yard, doesn't it?

These pictures were taken eight days apart, it will never cease to amaze me. The zucchini in stores always look so small, i like to let them get a bit bigger. This one will be delicious!

But the big thing that puts a smile on my face today is this: I'm turning into my mother, in a good way. Sure, turning into your mother can be a bad thing, but in this case, it's not so bad. As I send her a picture of my huge zucchini and ask her for the family salsa recipe, I don't mind being a little more "Mom" today.

"Mom! Phineas and Ferb are Being Adorable!"

 So, a couple of weeks ago, Alex and I acquired a pair of kittens. I've posted the story of Puff's adoption on this blog. Now let me tell the story of Puff's little brothers, Phineas and Ferb.

So, getting two cats was my idea. Puff did well as an only cat, she only needed me and she was fine. She didn't really like other cats. But not all cats are so solitary. Especially with owners that work outside the home, a lot of cats do well in pairs or small groups. They have someone to play with when the owners are out. And this way, Alex and I can both have a cat to hold at the same time!

Since Puff passed away, we have desperately wanted cats. It's honestly kind of pathetic. How am I supposed to lay in bed on a Saturday morning without a cat purring on my chest? Who can I talk to when I'm alone in the house? Every time I saw a cat, I zeroed in on it and tried to pet it with a single-minded focus akin to the feline fixation of my childhood (for those who did not know child Kim, my obsession with cats was rather....insane). Getting a cat at age 13 actually made me less obsessed with cats by channeling all the energy into one direction, that of my incredibly spoiled pet. Apparently, that obsession never actually went away, and boy was it surprising to have it rise to the surface again.

Whatever cats do to people, it's contagious. Is it love, or is it toxoplasmosis? Whatever it is, Puff gave it to Alex. He already liked cats when we met, and my little charmer hopped onto his lap and into his heart. He lived without cats for years, but after three years with Puff, he was counting the days until "new cats day" right alongside me. I've ruined him, he's a cat dad forever now. He is particularly fond of black cats because they make him feel like a wizard.

Two cats that are already friends, at least one of them black. A simple order, one that we should be able to find in all of DFW. On the Saturday after New Year's, we set out. We started with the Denton Humane Society, then the local PetSmart. We were surprised at how few paired cats we saw. Orr next stop was a nearby Petco, where I had seen a local organization say they had adoption events.

A corner of the store was filled with cages of cats. Alex and I walked over and saw a cage with two kittens asleep in a pile, one black and one unmistakably Siamese. The volunteer opened the door and invited us to pet them. When Alex put his hand in the cage, the little black one wrapped his little paw around Alex's finger and he was gone. That little pile of black fur had stolen his heart.

We held them, and the Siamese purred up a storm in my arms. We learned that though they are not brothers, they are best friends and would do well adopted together. We were told that they were sociable, playful, and cuddly, a great match for us. The black one was named Gravy beacuse he had been found in a tiny cage in a trailer park being fed table scraps. The Siamese was named Champagne Problems after the Taylor Swift song. We signed the papers and they were ours.

"Mom, you have two hands. One for each kitty. Now pet us!" (Look at their little Valentine's Day collars)

Riding passenger with a box of kittens on your lap is possibly one of the best feelings in the world. They stuck their little paws out the holes in the side, asking for attention. I told them that they were going to a new home with toys, treats, and lots of love.

We put the box in a bathroom with a litterbox and opened it. The Siamese leapt out immediately, wanting to explore. The black cat decided to hide. We intended to leave them in there fora few hours, butthe siamese insisted upon inspecting the entire house. There were things to be sniffed! By evening, he was playing with us in the living room, totally comfortable in the new space.

His adoptive brother took his time. He spent a few days hiding under the bed, only coming out if i coaxed him or put a food bowl next to the bed. Slowly but surely, i lured him with a toy down the hall and into the dining area, where he foumd food and water. When he decided that the living room was a good place, the siamese, excited to finally have someone to play with, instigated the first of many wrestling matches.

We knew that these boys needed new names for their forever home. They were a pair, so they needed a pair of names. Coffee and Bagel? Cookies and Cream? Pinky and The Brain? We bounced names back and forth until we found a set that just felt right.

They are Phineas and Ferb, the main characters of a cartoon by the same name. Ifyouare not familiar eith it, I highly recommend at least looking up some clips. It's about two boys who get into wild adventures in their back yard. Phineas is the ringleader and the more talkative, and Ferb famously says one line per episode. It's one of those kids cartoons that adults also enjoy for its creativity and music, so Alex and I are both fans. The siamese is into everything and likes to talk in his little kitten squeak, so he's Phineas. The black kitty is a bit more shy, but very affectionate and nice, so he's Ferb. The boys in the show are also step-brothers, so it's even more fitting for our brothers from another mother!

No one is alone with these bots in the house. Ferb sits on Alex when he plays video games, and Phineas likes to watch me cook from the kitchen stool. They follow me around the house in the morning and sleep piled around me at night.

I'm so glad we have our sweet boys. Their big sister Puff...would probably not be a fan since she didn't like other cats much. But they are good successors, and I'll be sharing their antics for years to come. The house is a home once again.

Have a great day, and pet an animal if you get a chance!

My 2024 Challenge

Okay, before we get into my 2024 challenge, let's review the last year. Because 2023 was quite a year for me, and I feel like I should give the year its due.

This is one of my favorite light displays in my neighborhood. Peanuts Christmas has a special place in my heart.

I began the year an engaged woman with one living grandparent and one cat, living in an apartment. All of those things changed. First, my grandmother passed away, meaning that all of my grandparents were present at my wedding, but only in spirit. I gained a wonderful husband to be my partner in this all-around weird experience called life. My new husband and I went to Switzerland on our honeymoon. Switzerland! It's still kind of amazing to say it. We were able to buy a home together, which neither of us had anticipated. Then, after we had moved into out new house, my cat, my dear Puff, passed away. So much has changed. Not necessarily for better or for worse, just different. Just life doing life things. Time passing as it should. We all learn what we can through the seasons and take life as it comes.

In 2024 I will turn 30, and that doesn't scare me one bit. A lot of people my age are afraid of it, but I guess I just wasn't born with that fear. I'd rather grow old than the alternative, so I'll just be a cool old person. But will I also help to throw overdramatic "funerals for my 20's" for all of my friends and probably myself? Of course! Will there also be cakes made with black cocoa powder decorated with snarky phrases? What do you take me for?

In 2024, I resolve to get a pair of cats. *whispering from off-stage* I have been told that this does not count as a resolution. Alex and I are getting cats anyway. Not only for our own companionship, but because I currently cannot be near an animal and not try to pet it. It's going to get dangerous with the local wildlife if I don't get some kind of furry creature into my home real soon here. The little furballs will be all over my social media, so be on the lookout in the coming days.

So, on to my challenge for 2024. This idea came into my head when I was helping my mother bake a pumpkin pie. She uses the tried-and true Libby's pumpkin pie recipe from the back of the can of pumpkin. I was looking at the recipe card, then I looked at the can of pumpkin, which was another brand. I noticed that the recipe was different. And I started thinking about all of those classic back-of-the-box recipes that so many homemakers have had as staples through the decades. The most well-known of these is the Toll House chocolate chip cookies. It feels like cheating, but it really is a great chocolate chip cookie recipe. I guarantee someone you know had a "special cookie recipe" that is just the Toll House recipe. It got me thinking: What other recipe gems are hiding on containers in my kitchen?

So, my fun little challenge for 2024 is to cook my way through the recipes that are already in my kitchen. I took a few minutes on January 1st to turn around every bottle, box, canister, and bag I could find in search of recipes. I took pictures of all of them and I intent to make them. There may be a really good recipe that I've been ignoring for years! From the Clabber Girl baking powder biscuits to the Grandma molasses barbecue sauce, the only ones I passed over are ones I know I won't like. If you want to know if the Panko coconut shrimp is any good, you're going to have to make it yourself, I don't like coconut.

Is it a resolution? Eh, not really, but resolutions have never been my thing anyway. I'll post my little pilgrimage through my cupboards on Facebook, so enjoy my results. Maybe I'll find a new favorite to keep on the recipe rotation!

I hope you are getting your new year off to a great start and that you have a good day in general. With any luck, my next post will be about new kitties. 

Here's to 2024!