Under the Onion Tree

Mom's eyesight is not what it used to be despite daily applications of drops for macular degeneration and retinal problems. (I apply the drops ever since I discovered she was not hitting her eyes when she tried to administer them herself. She wasn't tilting her head back far enough and was just dribbling the drops down her cheeks. Not surprisingly, her check-ups have shown stabilization since I took over.)

Anyway, yesterday morning she looked out the large window through the lanai and said, "Well, there's absolutely nothing going on out there today." Meaning there's no significant gale blasting through. Normal breezes are too subtle for her to detect. She can also see the occasional bird if it's sitting on a wire and contrasted against the sky, but she frequently thinks a dark blue sky is clouds and vice versa, a light gray overcast becomes clear sky. "Yep," she said. "Nothing going on at all . . . except those three onions."

Onions?

So I tried to see where she was looking. The lemon tree has three almost ripe lemons clustered together like a pawn shop sign.

So now we have an onion tree.