Sweet, smart Mama Kat, with her frugality and her perfect skin and eyebrows and delicious camera presence, has invited us this week to write about something apple related. Chances are she was hoping we’d share recipes for the crisp new season or, in light of recent retail events, maybe a tech rant or funny story. But all I can think about is my wanna-be Lazy W orchard and its singular fruit.
A few years ago I planted three fruit trees on the south side of our pool yard, two apple varieties and one plum, and have babied them ever since. And by “babied” I mean I look at them lovingly and remember to water them deeply and infrequently, not a flimsy sprinkle every day. And I never, under any circumstances, speak ill about them in public or accidentally chop them down. Never. I am a pretty decent tree mama. But in three growing seasons now, despite abundant flowering each spring, despite thick leaf cover each summer, these three trees have among themselves produced exactly one piece of fruit, a yellow apple about the size of a golf ball.
Now don’t get me wrong; this small yellow gem is adorable! I mean, I appreciate the heck out of it. I love it. Every time I see it my mouth salivates and I wonder how fast I can find the salt shaker. But I dare not touch it. Being the only fruit in my entire orchard (I have no problem using terms loosely if they make me sound cool) this is a bonafide treasure.
But when will there be more? Can I even be sure of more to come? What am I doing wrong, do I just want it too much? I think about this more than I probably need to. Like, every time I buy apples at the grocery store. And every time I pass by the three trees while doing yard work. And at every single Hot Tub Summit (they are adjacent). And every time I prune back the over productive tomato vines. It’s hard not to compare parts of your garden, you know. Difficult not to shame one plant by praising another.
Handsome and I have discussed relocating the Lazy W Orchard in favor of installing a pool deck, but I just can’t bring myself to risk that one tiny apple. To me, after all this waiting and watching, it would feel like giving up on a miracle.
This definitely takes the idea of #slowfood to a whole new level. I think maybe even Barbara Kingsolver would grow impatient. Then again, she would probably have planted more than just three trees, so that by the time they would come into their own she is suddenly baking apple pie for the entire county.
Thanks for listening to my apple woes. I have a lot to learn about growing apples, for sure, and this fruit angst is raising all kinds of questions about the economy of small scale farming. We paid $15 for each fruit tree, three seasons ago. And I don’t care how much you like apples; $45 is too much for just one.
Do you have any apple growing experience? What can you teach me? What is the most you have ever spent on one piece of fruit?
The best time to plant a tree
is twenty years ago.
~Unknown
XOXOXOXO
Be sure to click over to Kat’s site and browse the other stories today.
Lots of fun people!
BW says
I call dibs on that apple!
Allie says
I can teach you nothing about apples! I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I think climate has a lot to do with it, yes? I forget where you live, but I know apples are big in the northern states. I haven’t ever been to an orchard! I grew up on Cape Cod and South Florida, so there was zero opportunity. I plan to find one this year and take the kids. Rumor has it there are a few in the north Georgia mountains. Good luck!
Brittany says
The second best time is now!
When I was a senior in high school–in 1999–my best friend gave me a lilac bush. We had moved from a backyard filled with lilacs to a yard with none and she knew how much I missed them. I don’t think that lilac bush bloomed once until a couple years ago. So 11 years, maybe, is how long the thing took to bloom. I don’t know what my point is. Don’t give up? Go ahead and build the deck since they’re not blooming anyway? I don’t know. I admire you for even trying.
Kat says
You make me smile every time I stop in. My favorite farmer by far! “Difficult not to shame one plant by praising another.” Seriously. lol
Do you talk to your apple tree? Offer encouragement? They respond well to that!
May says
I have been “raising apples” for several years now. Which is to say, I got my husband to plant me a tree and most years apples magically appear without my knowing why or how. But I think you may have a pollination problem. Not really sure though.
Katie @Dishin & Dishes says
The first year we started our garden, Mr. Wonderful said we had $200 tomatoes…it was that year it was 105 for like…60 days…I think we got 4 tomatoes…
Jessica says
I love Barbara Kingsolver…
How old were the trees when you planted them? And are they early bloomers (is there usually a frost after they’ve bloomed)?