Tuesday, December 9, 2008


One year Shaun bought me a lime tree for Christmas. Not last Christmas, not the one before ... I can hardly even remember when it was. I know we were in our previous house, so I'd say it was seven Christmases ago.

When he gave me it I was delighted. It was exactly the present I'd asked for. I looked after it, expecting it to repay me with bountiful fruit.

Nada. Nothin'

At this point I should state that I am not the best citrus-tree owner. I would like to be, it's just that I forget it's there. And therefore the poor thing goes unwatered for weeks at a stretch.

I'd pretty much given up on our lime tree actually producing fruit until last year. A wet summer meant, lo and behold, A LIME!

One. Little. Lime.

We stroked it and nurtured it and eventually when it reached about the size of a cumquat, we picked it.

We cut it open: it was virtually juiceless. Still, this was a victory. We had produced a lime.

This year, however, things are much improved. Oh yes.

We have many, many little limes.

The secret to our success?

My son is toilet training. So where do I deposit the wees that go in his potty? Said lime tree.
It's working a treat.


M said...

As a hopeless citrus owner I must encourage the boys of my family to 'water' the lemon more often. One measly lemon this year, too high up to pick.

Stomper Girl said...

Yes our lemon tree started fruiting like a bastard once we trained Climber to wee on it.