Jun. 1st, 2018

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There is something truly satisfying about plucking a glistening piece of fruit from your own tree (vine, bush, etc.) and eating it there right at the plant you took it from. Last fall, I had that peculiar satisfaction from our grapes and persimmons. It’s kind of primal. No trifle, nor any preserve is tastier or sweeter than the fruit you grew and harvested yourself.

I’ve planted a handful of trees since we arrived. Both peaches we planted last year are bearing nicely, both potted citrus are covered with small growing fruit and one of the two apples that got major haircuts last year is looking much happier than last year, AND has an abundant crop. Last year’s cherry seedling is leafing out very nicely, and the pear planted 2 months ago looks happy.

Bill has gifted us (per my request) with a nice handful of fig cuttings for the second time. Sadly, none of that first batch successfully rooted and survived however. This time around, one cutting is clearly taking and is starting this past week to leaf out. I’m so excited! I love fresh figs and I’ve always wanted one of my own. Until 18 months ago, there was an abandoned orchard in Forestville that was never harvested & off to its edge, was a giant fig tree, a brown turkey fig. Every October for almost a decade I visited that tree, and for about 6 weeks, savored these wonderful figs. Then the whole orchard was decimated, gutted, pulled out to put in wine grapes. I’m still semi-grieving the destruction of that glorious tree and its equally glorious bounty. It will be many years before this cutting is a formidable tree like that, but long before it reaches that state, there will be some shade and prolific yield of fruit.

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