The Tale of the Heroic Kale

There once was an enterprising city squirrel. Mangy and distrustful, the demonic little rodent looked up, down, and scurried onto a little blue deck, located just blocks from the Delaware’s mighty river shores. The wind was icy but the twitchy devil was warmed by the doughnut he had stolen from a hungry worker down the alley.

Knowing that his treasure would surely taste sweeter after a few months buried in POD’s cold soil, he dug. And dug. And dug. The neurotic monster ripped the poor over-wintering kale from its chilly home and entombed his tasty find.

And the sad little kale,  rudely disrupted from hibernation, lay on its side, roots exposed to the brutal Philly elements.  The demonic little rodent twitched a twitchy smile and scampered off, satisfied with his destruction.

Months later, after the winter’s most brutal days had passed and spring was telegraphing her signs of life, POD’s tender braved the swirling winds and climbed the sladder to the little blue deck.

Oh, the carnage! Oh, poor little kale! But wait? Were its leaves still tender, supple, and green? A survivor!

Cradling the damaged and forgotten kale, she made her way back down the treacherous sladder and lovingly transplanted the heroic kale to the barren blue window box overlooking a busy Pennsport street. The kale, like the poor hungry dude’s quite possibly powdered sugar doughnut,  had survived.

Heroic Kale
Heroic Kale

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