I found a shopping bag today that read “Chaos Coordinator,” and I just couldn’t pass it by. In fact, I ended up buying two of them because, frankly, I manage a whole lot of chaos on a daily basis. Picture this: an old cat who has claimed his own private bedroom, two 80-pound dogs who think the living room is their personal demolition derby, and a kitchen that currently looks more like a seed-starting lab than a culinary space. If that bag doesn’t describe my life right now, I don’t know what does.
The latest project fueling the chaos is my homemade grow tent, which I’ve decided to set up in the cat’s room—yes, the cat has his own room, but in his defense, he’s earned it. He’s old, and it keeps him safe from the aforementioned destructive mutts. This enclosure is pretty straightforward: a few shower curtains from the dollar store, some sturdy zip ties, and a couple of twenty-dollar grow lights I scored on Amazon. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s functional, giving me a space that stays warm enough for starting seeds when it’s still too cold outside for them.
Meanwhile, I’ve also been pasteurizing a big batch of substrate and preparing buckets for oyster mushrooms, which is a fun (and slightly messy) process. I can’t wait to have fresh mushrooms on hand, and every time I look at those buckets, I imagine the culinary possibilities. Between the buckets, the grow tent, and the various garden implements scattered around, it’s safe to say that my home is a bustling hub of botanical experiments right now.
Out in the yard, the chickens are doing their part by helping me break down compost. I dump a pile of composted material in the area where I set their chicken tractor, and they go to work scratching and pecking until everything is thoroughly mixed. It’s kind of like free yard labor—and they seem to enjoy it. Since I’ve finally thrown in the towel on maintaining a pristine grass lawn, I’ve opted to seed the yard with microgreens for the chickens to snack on instead. The birds get a treat, and I don’t have to stress about brown patches or endless weeding.
As for my garden plans, I’ve decided to skip cucumbers and zucchini this year. I just don’t have the best luck with them, and there’s nothing more frustrating than watching them fail over and over. I’m also passing on heirloom tomatoes, which I love in theory, but the yield was too low last season to justify the work. Instead, I’m focusing on tried-and-true veggies and letting go of the ones that take up too much space and energy without giving much back.
Lastly, there’s my kitchen—my well-used, far-from-Instagram-worthy kitchen. It’s where I’m doing most of my planting right now, simply because the weather hasn’t warmed up enough to work outside comfortably. Sure, it may not look magazine-perfect, but it’s the heart of my home and the epicenter of all these gardening and culinary adventures. Someday, I might remodel it into something sleek and shiny, but for now, it’s cozy, it’s functional, and it houses all my joyful chaos quite well. And that’s more than enough for me.