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Freshly picked


Two years ago I bought a satsuma tree sapling from the local Master Gardener’s twice yearly sale. I brought it home and put it in the back yard until my husband could return home and plant it. Toby, however, had different ideas. She was sure there was something wonderful buried underneath that tree and dug it out of its pot—along with the huge Christmas cactus.I put them both back in their pots only to come out a bit later and find them dug up again.

Lee, who cuts the grass, happened to be there working on the yard–and so I asked him to plant it somewhere in the front yard where he thougtht it would flourish. It was supposed to go to the shop but that ground out there is very hard and I didn’t think that poor tree would be too happy bare-rooted for another two weeks.


So Lee planted it and it grew—a little bit. We didn’t see many blossoms the next year and no fruit materialized. But this year there were many blossoms and many nubbins of fruit—most of them cast off—but we did harvest about ten total—

There is something about picking a piece of fruit and eating just a few minutes later.

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