We’ve had a bit of an odd spell with plants this year. Some started out dying, others thrived. And recently, we had a sudden rush to try and buy the right soil, after we found that the wrong soil had started killing some of our hibiscus (and now they’re doing well, including the one that lost all its leaves and looked for all the world like it had been beyond saving).
And the other thing was our apple trees in the back. I’ve been knocking spikes into the ground, trying to straighten one of them with a ratchet strap, and generally taking care of them. And this year, they actually began to grow apples! A good thing, I thought, but when we tried one after the birds started taking a little interest, they were still a little too tough to pick (and too tart for my wife’s taste, though personally I like ’em either way). So, we left them to grow a little longer.
In hindsight, this may have been an error, as it turns out that birds are NOT so particular about apples. Yesterday, my wife saw a Steller’s Jay sitting in the tree opposite with one of the apples in its claw, pecking away at it, and so I decided I’d have to harvest what apples were remaining.
And that amounted to — wait for it — three whole apples.
They weren’t quite as tough as the first time, but they were still tart. I think they might’ve made for good cooking apples, or possibly been something that Mum might’ve liked to eat, except that there weren’t nearly enough of ’em. The largest was probably about an inch and a half wide, the smallest closer to an inch, but if I’d left them any longer they’d all have been bird food. So, I nibbled one, and took the other two round to our neighbours to share — not many, I admit, but it’s the thought that counts, right?