In the Fullness of Time

This weekend my brother planted the orange tree I gave him.

For Christmas.

The poor thing has been sitting in its pot either in the lanai or out in the back yard since December 26. Who knows how long it sat in the nursery before that. (Best guess: Not nearly as long.)

At first he wanted to wait for the weather to warm up, which made sense. It would do no good to plant it if there was a chance of a freeze. Then, for a long time after any possibility of a freeze had passed, I don't know what the excuse was except the redneck tendency to never quite finish (or start) any project. At first, he said he didn't know where he wanted to put it. Later it was too hot to work outside (frequently true), then too rainy (sometimes true). Then he needed to buy fertilizer first. That took a month or so to get around to. Then he discovered irrigation pipes tangled in the roots of the (stunted) lemon tree which he originally intended to dig up and replace with the orange.

Yesterday, as I was looking out the sliding door to the lanai, I noticed the orange tree was no longer parked next to the lemon but was back in the far corner of our property past the smaller of our coconut palms. And it was in the ground. And while I was looking my brother took a gallon of water out to it. Knowing his green thumb, it will probably thrive. Of course, the tools he used are still stuck in the ground next to the tree and will be until they are eventually needed somewhere else.

I hadn't said aloud that I would never by him another plant again, but maybe he sensed it anyway.

And maybe I will reconsider.

Miscellanea: Fauna, Aquatic, Aerial and Terrestrial

It looks like the Mohawk Reef has become a magnet for whale sharks. A second one was spotted there just this past week. It's also become a magnet for just about every other fish within twenty miles.

And it seemed the great turtle egg-laying season from earlier this year might have been compromised by Tropical Storm Debby and Hurricane Isaac but, then again, maybe not.

The sulphur butterflies are all over the yard, about the same size and color as the new lemons on the lemon tree. A few viceroys and some others I haven't been able to identify yet are also hanging about.

  

   

The abundance of lizards would seem to indicate that the Cuban Tree Frogs have not overwhelmed our little ecological niche.

And then, of course, there is the cat who has become sleek and fat and demanding, training us to her extremely large vocabulary of grunts, whistles, chirps and mewls as she explains that her food dish needs topping off and her water bowl requires freshening and the door needs to be held open right now while she decides whether to sit on the cushioned chair outside under the oak or remain sprawled on the living room carpet.

January, Florida Style

Our "cold spell" seems to be ending without too much damage. The weather people have been giving us frost warnings and the counties to the north freeze warnings for the past few days but the only damage I could find has been to one tomato. It and another one were pretty ripe so I picked them. (Another three or four will be ready by the weekend.) And another lemon has fallen from its tree.

Mom has a space heater in her room (along with her electric blanket) and has not complained of the cold at all, yet.

Today is sunny, a literally cloudless sky, no humidity, a slight breeze and temps in the mid 60s. A far cry from this time last year.

Butterfly Garden

We've talked about putting in a butterfly garden. I think we're halfway there already without even trying.

The Monarchs are migrating right now and occasionally stop by even though there's no milkweed here that I can find.

 

We have several smaller Viceroys living in the yard.

And a couple of yellowish Cloudless Sulphurs hang out around the lemon tree.

There are several other less spectacular moths and butterflies out there right now I still need to identify. If we can pick the right plants for them (and others still to be attracted) maybe next year we can sit outside in a silent cloud of colorful wings.

Don't even get me started on the dragonflies with the four inch wingspans.

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.

Art Imitates Life

The rabbit was in the backyard again sitting perfectly still. It was toward the far back of the yard and I knew Mom couldn't see it from the couch and, normally, I wouldn't ask her to get up just for a rabbit but she stood up on her own to go get a drink so I called her over to the lanai door/window.

"See that?" I asked.

"Oh, it's the bunny! Hello, Mr. Rabbit. Look how still he's sitting, not moving at all." Which was all accurate and true and pretty perceptive for someone as blind as she's getting to be. Except . . ..

She was facing the wrong direction. She was looking about 30 degrees to the right of where the rabbit actually was. So I stood behind her and looked over her head along her line of sight.

She was staring at a life-size white ceramic garden statue rabbit. Which she had made years and years ago.

When I pointed that out to her and showed her where the real (chocolate brown) rabbit was, she laughed and said it was a good thing I was there. In her defense, while she was looking the live rabbit didn't move any more than the sculpted one. (Although about ten minutes later I did see it nibbling at the lowest leaves of the lemon tree.)

A Good Year for Mangoes

This looks like it might turn out to be a good year for fruits and veggies. The mango tree is loaded, the lemon tree has been generous as has the grapefruit tree. The only disappointment in the citrus department is the oranges which are tough, fibrous and juiceless. The winter cold snap must have gotten to them.

In the vegetable section, we have three different kinds of tomatoes in. The plants are doing well although one seems to have a caterpillar or other infestation. Almost all the blossoms have been very neatly cut off right at their bases. The tomatoes are in tubs so my brother moved that one away from the others which are looking good. He'll inspect it later today.

We also have sweet peppers (in tubs) and onions (in the ground). The local "soil" is a thin layer of sandy dirt over a limestone bedrock and is not good for things like potatoes. Carrots, maybe, if a patch can be developed properly.

Making Lemonade

My brother picked some huge ripe lemons from the tree the other day and when he carried them into the house he said, "Mom, look at the lemons."

To which she replied, "What?"

"Lemons," he said holding out the armful. And then louder: "Lemons."

"What?"

I joined him. "Lemons!" we both shouted. "Big, ripe, yellow lemons!"

"I don't understand."

"LEMONS!!"

"Oh," she said, not entirely convincingly. We gave up.

I don't think the incident was due entirely to her deafness. I think she really didn't understand the word, at least for a minute or so. Showing them to her didn't help, either, in my opinion, since they are so large and round they don't look like lemons except for being too yellow to be oranges and not quite big enough to be grapefruit (all of which are growing in the yard and ripening about now). They're sitting on the kitchen counter now and, just to be safe, my brother took a marker and wrote a big "L" on each one.

So far so good.