Thursday, March 18, 2010

The citrus trees are blooming. My favorite smell ever, it gives me a few final moments of happiness in the land of the Five C's before the fireball descends and burns everything away.

From my little tree out back. Having a personal lemon tree is basically the highest form of luxury that I can possibly imagine. All the low hanging fruit is gone and I can't get at the higher stuff, which means I end up spending lots of time with the handle of an old swiffer sweeper, pathetically beating at the tree like a pinata, cursing and panting like the pissed-off geriatric that I am. But I enjoy it, of course. Including the cursing and panting.

This is my favorite time of year, and it only lasts about a week to 10 days. Micro-spring.

Also in the yard is a 50 year old grapefruit tree. I carry them inside in my shirt and juice them, glass bottles all in a row in the fridge. I am so impressed with this tree because it's never seen a day of pesticide and don't even mention genetic modification. Sad that this is a novelty? I've always been fascinated with growing, fruiting things, blooming and producing the way nature and Teddy Roosevelt intended. Maybe I can advertise those seeds on the internet to amateur citrus farmers who want to party like it's 1949.

Fuck yeah! Trees!

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