cache · 01
the raccoon · chief debugger
"stress-eats vintage m&ms and talks to the dom. one button. one granola bar. one complete ui collapse."
welcome to my orbit.
plant mom. dog mom. actual mom. big boss at zip kit. certified chaos with a blog and no niche. no schedule. no apologies. just life, the plants, an aussie heeler with strong opinions about your shoelaces, and whatever needs to get out of my head.
former career waitress - attempted house keeper - turned whatever-this-is. cedar city, ut. she/her.
i'm kelsey. loudest plant mom in cedar city. dog mom, actual mom, big boss at zip zit. i process life by naming my personality traits and letting them argue on the internet.
some people journal. some people go to therapy. i made a raccoon named cache who stress-eats vintage M&Ms and rewrites the rules mid-crisis.
no niche. no schedule. no apologies. just the plants, the dog, the people I love and can't quite figure out, the job, the chaos, and whatever needs to get out of my head.
— k ✦they started as ways to handle feelings. now they have opinions. now they write posts. introducing a few of the chaos crew — the rest will surface when they feel like it.
the raccoon · chief debugger
"stress-eats vintage m&ms and talks to the dom. one button. one granola bar. one complete ui collapse."
the penguin · wellness liaison
"schedules mandatory wellness check-ins. brings tea. makes printouts. nobody comes. he's fine. (he's not fine.)"
the ceiling gremlin · glitter gremlin
"glued to the ceiling with strong opinions about kevin's hydration reminders. cannot be reasoned with. will not come down."
new post drops when something happens worth writing about. which turns out to be… a lot. plant crises, work plot twists, powder's new villain arc, and the crew occasionally hijacking the keyboard.
she was fifteen feet long, had no drainage, and survived anyway. i drove an hour with cody, wrestled her into chip, and now she's staging in the guest room until i get hooks up.
read the full story
dropped ryden at grandma's, detoured to a mystery home depot with powder in his harness, came home to a scraggly betsy, and spent my friday night listening to old hags argue about pigeons.
i was just doing my routine morning repot. then i found craig. one white wiggly intruder in phillip's soil, and suddenly it was war.
i interviewed for admin assistant. i started in purchasing. now i run the place. the road in between involved hawaii, a surprise wife, a walmart reunion, and walking out over name cards.
all i wanted was a quick root check. what i got was an explosion, five secret plants, a two-foot vine of pure beauty, and gnat-infested soil that needed to be returned to nature immediately.
my gym goal is not health or fitness. it's so my daughter can one day look a man dead in the eyes and say "my mom can and will beat your ass on sight."
dutch bros, home depot, a herding emergency, a rescued philodendron, and cody.
found out a coworker doesn't like me because she feels threatened. okay queen. not sure what you want me to do with that.
she was flat, yellow, shoved in the back of the home depot shelf. the cashier side-eyed me. cody believed in me. i brought her home anyway.
my boss said spruce up the office. i said ugh. and then i said oh. tiddles saw this coming years ago.
i scheduled a mandatory wellness check-in. i brought tea. i made a printout. nobody came. i'm fine.
i respect kevin. i do. but if he asks me if i hydrated one more time while i'm glued to the ceiling i swear.
one button. one granola bar. one complete ui collapse. a memoir.
updated whenever i notice i've done the same thing four times in a row without realizing. the running log of my unexamined enthusiasms.
all of them. pothos, string of pearls, tradescantia, heartleaf philodendron — if it hangs and drapes and grows in every direction with zero chill, i am obsessed with it. they're so cute. i can't explain it. i won't try.
untying shoes. specifically. not chewing them. not stealing them. just untying them. every single time. with surgical precision. he finds a tied shoe, makes eye contact, and gets to work. we don't know why. we have accepted it.
everywhere all at once. 2000s girly pop one minute, current girly pop the next, then suddenly old school rap. there is no pattern. there is no playlist. there is only the vibe of the moment and i follow it completely.
salmon & tilapia. repeatedly. i have made some version of salmon or tilapia for dinner more times than i can count lately and i am not even a little sorry about it. it's good. it's easy. powder stares at me the entire time i cook it. worth it.
dog, plants, kid, chaos, the occasional snow day. a rolling photo reel of my actual life. tap any tile for the whole story.
small-batch propagations and babies from my own jungle. shipped with care instructions in my voice, obviously. while supplies last — and by "supplies" i mean "whatever i can bear to part with this week."