Monday, February 23, 2009

Some stuff is growing and it's not all vegetables.

Thanks for playing along with my supah mature guessing game but I'm sorry to say that nobody guessed exactly right. Which is important to me, the exact-ness, because I'm A/R.

I do appreciate the fact that you think I could be growing raspberry bushes (thank you, Shannon) even knowing what a maniac I can be with prickly berry bushes. But, no, I'm afraid that there is a shoot-on-site alert from my mom posted at all Bay Area nurseries warning them against selling anyone fitting this description a prickly berry bush of any variety.

I am a very accomplished klutz with the bushes, dontchaknow, and I think my mom worries for my life when I get too close to them. Especially since I'm typically wearing flip-flops and shorts at those times.


I'm also not planting any new variety of citrus (already have the one Meyer lemon), since we have a ton nearby and that ton is good exercise for the Jada, so growing it at home would be silly and the dog would hardly get any backpack time taking it from the yard to our kitchen.

And LORD NO I am not having chickens around here. The idea...I can not would be too...the dog would massacre...Aaaaaaaaaargh! Anyway, so, No on the chickens. But thanks for playing!

However, Kris did say "fruit trees" - which is pretty close, so let's just go with that.

Would you like to hear the story of the fruit trees? It's short. Here we go...

Bubba and I like to give each other trees as gifts. A few birthdays ago he gave me two Japanese maples for our front yard and for his birthday this year, I gave him an apple tree. A Gravenstein one, to be precise. The End.

Like that? I try hard to please you can't you write a shorter post? people, OK. Please appreciate.

So, for this momentous birthday-that-shall-not-be-named, Bubba got his long-desired apple tree and we planted it in the backyard with just enough hi jinx to be considered celebratory.

And because we are also silly, in addition to being oddball fruit tree-coveters, we then named the tree so that we can refer to it during future landscaping conversations without confusion.

We call this tree, Skinny, and I think you can see why.

One day, we will pick an apple from this twig. One day...

And then, in a totally birthday-free tree-giving event, our fabulous ,wonderful, generous neighbors gave us their cherry tree.


To give you an idea of how fabulous, wonderful and generous these ladies are, allow me to paint a picture of the tree-giving moment. If you are of the can't you write a short post? mindset, I suggest you look away. This might take a minute.

We were across the street at their house one morning, sharing some homemade waffles (theirs) and freshly squoze orange juices (ours), when they asked us if we wanted a cherry tree.

I'd be shocked if she didn't see the answer leap off my face because YES, obviously I've wanted a cherry tree all my life and how could you know that? GET OUT OF MY HEAD CRAZY WAFFLE LADY.

Well, apparently, they had a cherry tree WITH MULTIPLE GRAFTS HELLO!, living in a half wine barrel in their backyard and it needed a place to go in the ground where it would get adequate sun. Except, that sunshiney place didn't exist in their backyard. Sad. Poor tree, living in half a wine barrel with no sunshiney hole to call its own.

It sounds kinda porny, but really what this meant was that they thought a sunny spot existed in our backyard and wouldn't we do them the huge favor of saving their tree from this half wine barrel by taking this tree off their hands and planting it in our yard where it could have sun and a place in the ground to call home.

Um, kay.

I thought for a minute that they were joking, because of the too-good-to-be-trueness of the whole scenario, but no. They were being serious. And also fabulous, wonderful and generous as always by gifting us with a very nice and multi-grafted cherry tree that would fulfill all my fruit tree hopes and dreams.

That's all, just all my hopes and dreams in tree form, no biggie.

Howdy, Neighbor.

So, the tree's still pretty young, but one day it will produce a good crop of Bing, Black Tartarian, and Van cherries so that we may stain our faces (clothes, hands, dog) red from a prone position on the lawn.

I hope.

And, in the near future, we may also have the pleasure of a blossoming cherry tree in our very own yard.

And that is the dream, people.

My very own cherry blossoms which I can just stand in my yard and stare at without anyone walking by asking me exactly what the hell do I think I'm doing standing in their yard eyeballing their tree.

Yeah. I'm a total cherry tree gawker. I have ONLY ONCE OR TWICE stopped mid-run to admire a blossoming cherry tree because I'm a totally humongous dork. I don't know what it is.

I will stare at you. Prepare yourself, tree.

So, yeah, that's the story of the fruit trees. The long and short versions. And now we have two fruit trees living it up in the backyard and I've also been moving and planting some other things so that the trees won't be all alone as they get used to their new homes.

I mean, it'd be awkward otherwise, right?

So I relocated the strawberries so they'd be close to the cherry tree. Help it get up to speed on backyard gossip, I guess.

These strawberries are so snarky.

And I put in an artichoke near the tree so that it could feel graceful by comparison.

I'm not ugly, I'm exotic.

And because I was feeling adventurous and the camera was already a-snappin', I went out to the front yard to check on the bulb and wildflower progress.

Good job, pee hole!

Told you I saw a daffodil. And now there's three.

Ok, so those last two don't have anything to do with fruit trees or companion click social circle planting, but I look at them a lot, too, and they're doing a lot of growing without any attention from me which makes them awesome.

And if you want to keep going with the supah mature guessing games, just go ahead and guess what's blooming in the vegetable beds right now.

Go on then, guess...I won't ridicule you publicly for your wrong guesses or anything.


  1. I WIN! I KNEW it was fruit trees; I was just HOPING for citrus so I could satisfy my citrus longing vicariously through you.

    That sounded gross.

    But cherries would be my next favorite. I made a cherry cobbler last night. I took one bite and nearly swooned with the summeriness of the taste. Sigh. But those cherries came from the U-Pick, not from our VERY OWN BACKYARD. So, YOU win!

    Hmm, what's blooming . . . could it possibly be the peas? That would be freakishly early, but then you live in a freakish place.

  2. Tomatoes? Our voluntary tomatoes are sprouting, but not blooming. So probably not tomatoes. I'm going to go with squash - do I have to be exact? Probably. Okay, then. Yellow squash.

  3. You live in a farmer's market. I'm so jealous!

  4. I am absolutely loving the idea of a cherry tree. I think I'd like an almond tree if I lived in your area too. I'm going to pick up a fig tree from a gardener on Craigs List this weekend. Oh yeah, I've caught the fever and the only thing that can cure it is a little more plants (cowbell.)

  5. Um, pansies? Does it have to be a veggie? So, you can graft three varieties off of the trunk??? Very cool. And sorry, I'm going to have to go with ugly, not exotic. It looks like our obnoxious thistles.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.