In Which Sheila Details A Tragedy That Befell Her Back
I've missed a couple of Garden Thursdays, haven't I? Well, this week it was because, very tragically, I did something to my back. I don't know what, but something is pulled or torn or strained. I was trying to pour the contents of a 5 gallon pail onto something several feet away from me and up over a brick wall. There I was, leaning over the wall, keeping my bucket of fish fertilizer aloft, trying to pour it, when I heard a distinct PING in my lower back. Did I drop the bucket immediately? Did I think "Oops, better set this down carefully and walk away?" Did I stop doing what I was doing?
No, I did not. (that's because you are an idiot, Sheila - you think you're Lara Croft Tomb Raider, and it causes you to do incredibly stupid things despite the fact that you never go to a gym and you're not in incredibly excellent shape)
I kept pouring, albeit more carefully, until the pain in my back got so bad I had to bail. So I poured the contents of that bucket of fish fertilizer mostly on my sandals (stay tuned for Toe-Nail Growth Updates) because I couldn't move very well and I had to get that bucket out of my hands. Then I hobbled inside and sat down. And thought "Oh no, I've reached that time in my life when everything I do unleashes a strain or a twinge or a rip or an ache." There might have been a few $#&'s and **@'s and even one or two $#&@'s in there as well, not to mention a brief & interesting perusal of my very dirty feet, but being the good Jane Austen heroine that I am I will refrain from being too explicit. Suffice to say that I felt old and very very feeble.
And so, I've been kind of sitting around all week. Barely any walking, no driving, and no - gasp - gardening. Well, no gardening other than turning on taps and things. Thankfully the garden is on soaker hoses and timers and the World Cup is on. I've been making careful notes of Who Has Good Hair (Forlan) and Who Has Truly Bad Hair (Messi, Puyol). Among other things.
But yesterday I felt considerably better so I went out and picked up my order of lemon trees. Yes, you heard correctly. I am going to grow lemon trees. A fellow over the way grows them in his back yard - at least a hundred of them - along with limes, kumquats, mandarins, and oranges. He even has a guava or two. And that's not even mentioning the hundreds of apples, plums, cherries, and berries he has growing, staked and espaliered and cordoned. It's shockingly impressive. Even better, each spring he brings in an order of fruit trees to sell, which is how I ended up with two Meyer lemon trees (I'd wanted an orange but they never came in).
Here is one lemon. A happy lemon, as Dominic says. Hopefully it will be so happy I will get the crop my friend gets. At the very least get the flowers - the scent of those alone would be delightful.
And luckily some of the apple trees are doing well. This Gravenstein never got hit by the LGW (little green worms) and I don't see any signs of codling moth either.
The Crown Princess Margareta. I give her a martini every night and a glass of champagne on Sundays and so far she's quite happy.
I'm quite taken with how this Blue Star Creeper crept into the Irish Moss.
Poppies with lovely raggedy petals.
The one hybrid tea I've not been neglecting: Strike It Rich.
And here's another reason I've been forgetting my usual blogging habits. It's been really really hot here this week. Unusually hot. So hot we've broken records (35ºC on our deck yesterday) in town. Richard the Pool Boy set up the little pool and everyone's been happy. The twins play Make Wave games, games, Blow Bubbles On The Other Person's Back games, Go Underwater And Look At Each Other games, Fling The LegoMan games, and Run Wildly Around The Outside Edge Of The Pool Until There Is A Massive Current Then Plop Down And Ride The Current games. And in between we've been eating home-made ice cream sandwiches (using Hob Nobs and even Chocolate Covered Digestives), home-made fruit pops (blend together nectarines and strawberries and freeze in popsicle molds), and iced tea. Very very pleasant.