the verdict is "orange tree"-- even the alligator confirms it

It’s the leaves. The leaves have grown out and given it away as an actual orange tree of some kind. Since I don’t know which part of the seed it sprouted from there’s no telling if it’s identical to one parent or a cross between the seed bearing parent and the pollen producing parent. I could guess, but it would be just that– a guess.

The weather looked like it was going to clear up so my little citrusy babe has spent his first whole day and night out of doors in anticipation of the great glowing orb’s return. He doesn’t look too distraught at the change in light and temperature, although I can honestly say that my desk looks very sad without a wee orange tree on it.

Lexi made two egg heads but she’s refused to allow me to photograph them because she wants to post them on her blog.

For some reason I thought this project would be a little more involved than it actually was. Eggmond’s collar is a bit of cardboard tube scavenged from an aluminum foil box, connected with white glue. I drew his face on using sharpie marker. Then we filled his head with potting soil and topped it off with a sprinkle of wheat grass grain (which are just starting to sprout.)

I’m growing quite fond of Eggmond.

Then I plotted out my garden, but I still haven’t dug it up. I need a dry day to mow the lawn before I start digging. And a cattle panel to install for the squash and gourds before I put the starts in the ground.

Tried to go see Max Brooks at the Salem Public Library on the 27th of last month, but his presentation was sold out. So it’s possible I’ll never know if I have the ten essential skills to survive a zombie apocalypse. I did have a good laugh that night commiserating on the lack of tickets with other fans online, noting that there is absolutely no irony in the fact that scalpers typically don’t have tickets to public library events.

I did however manage to pick up the last copy of the Zombie Survival Guide at Borders, swooping in just before someone with tickets was able to purchase it (that was before I knew the presentation was sold out. Of course I was buying the book in anticipation of having it autographed as our first copy has been read by everyone in the family, it looks like it has gone though a zombie apocalypse. So I really hope I didn’t screw one of the ticket holders out of an autograph by getting the last copy that night.

maybe, I hope, I think so, it could be

Since the sprouting it hasn’t grown much, just this side of two inches– I’m almost confident that its a real orange tree sprout and not a weed seed that found its way into the potting soil.

Since the 29th of October I’ve kept it in good condition and have managed to not kill it off by neglect. Although I almost killed it by leaving the light over it on too high an intensity over Christmas holiday.

I haven’t planted anything else, but I’m planning on ruining my yard this year and cutting a 5×20 foot garden right in front of the house. I say “ruin” somewhat tongue in cheek because the beauty of a yard or  garden is subjective. I tend to think a perfectly manicured lawn is lovely, but I live with two children, four dogs, and a patch of feral strawberries that are determined to keep such a yard a distant and unrealistic dream.

Have you ever run over cleverly concealed ripe strawberries with a mulching lawn mower in August? I did, the carnage was great. Day one smells like a strawberry punch, day three after the mowing smelled like strawberry wine, day 10 and my yard smelled like a Ceasar salad. Not wholly unpleasant but mildly disturbing in that I was tempted to fetch croutons and Parmesan every time I went out to water the hedge.

Usually I try to scatter my food gardening as unobtrusively as possible around our property, a side effect of living in a family house is the fear that everyone is going to criticize any change, no matter how small and no matter how great of an improvement it might be over the way things Grandma had them arranged.

Grandma had dark fake wooden paneling in the living room– and I took so much flack for removing it. Mom’s dog used to pee on that rhododendron by the front door, never mind that the plant is dead it had sentimental value. Can’t dig there because we buried a cat there 4 decades ago.

The reality of it is though that if Matt and I hadn’t purchased the place then it would have been bought by people who would have seen it for the money pit that  it is, razed it to the foundation, torn out all the landscaping and built a duplex here. This year, I’m just going suck it up, brace myself for the finger pointing and cries of heresy and treat my property as my property and manage it the way I like instead of catering to a bunch of people who never bother to visit unless someone has died anyway.