Lemon Tree Oh So Pretty

Yes, I am writing yet another post about a tree.  By this blog you might think I am a gardener, but that is not the case. In reality I  have a brown thumb.  No house plant is safe within my domain.  That is why I am so very thrilled about my little lemon tree. We planted this tree back in February.  For the longest time it had this one enormous lemon that was on it when we bought it.  I finally picked that lemon because it was becoming an odd color.  Well this week my little tree finally began to show signs of having a crop of lemons.  I am thrilled. I keep going out every day to check on them to see if they have grown. 

This tree is important to me, and not just because of my usual quality of getting over attached to odd things.    Last year my dear friend lost her wonderful dog Miller to cancer.  Because she rents her home, she asked if we would let her bury Miller's ashes in our yard and maybe plant something in his memory.  I said sure.  Our dog Pooka is already  buried in the back yard.  (Do you think I need to disclose the pet cemetary in the backyard if we ever sell our house?)  Not too long after Miller died someone broke into my friend's house and the only thing they chose to steal besides a few small unimportant items was my friend's other dog Buddy.  It was devastating.  When we finally got around to burying Miller and planting the tree we decided to make it a tribute to all of the dear animals who have been part of our lives. We hung pet tags with each of their names on the tree.  I was really afraid I would kill the tree given my underwhelming success with plants.  I have faithfully watered this little tree twice a week like the nursery suggested since we planted it, and though many other plants have fallen victim  to the brown thumb the lemon tree has thrived. 

There is something that I like about planting something living  to honor those we no longer have with us.  I think it suggests the idea of death not being the end.  After my Dad died we planted three aspen trees in memory of him at the house we had in Big Bear.  They were outside our living room window and when the wind blew the leaves would rustle like wind chimes.  It sort of felt like my dad saying hi to me.  It struck me this week that the trees we planted to replace dead tree are similar to those trees which makes me like them more. 

 I also spent weeks planting bulbs all around the house in Big Bear.  There were tulips and daffodils and crocus, probably about 200 altogether.  We sold the house before I got to see them bloom and I have always wondered what it was like for the new owners when spring came and suddenly all of these flowers burst onto the scene.  We have some bulbs in our front yard here and it always seems like one day they are not there and the next day they are.  When I see them  it reminds me of a heavenly chorus, and I have to raise my voice in a high pitched Ohhhhhhhhh.  I hope my flowers made someone sing like that.