I was lucky enough to inherit four citrus trees when i bought the shack.
I've killed two.
I like to think it was their time to succumb to prior neglect rather than my own.
Since then I've administered sporadic TLC and manure.
Last year the fruit born from all that toil was used in a robust "hit your sister really hard...preferable behind the knee or in the head" game devised by my nieces.
I may have joined it.
I may still have citrus oil stains on my hard wood floors.
This year I decided to be a sensible adult and use the fruit. Squeezing 40 oranges for 2 litres of juice is very satisfying....once it's over.
The juice is super sweet, fresh and lovely, I'm glad I did it.
There is a lovely gentleman who lives in the street behind mine. He keeps many a chook, duck, goose and roster. I may have occasional cursed his little timekeepers at 5am on a winters morning but now he brings me these.
I think he is wonderful.
I often have a whinge about the quality of fruit and veg available in my part of the world.
8 hours on a truck doesn't tend to enhance it's freshness.
I've yet to find a person who raves over a limp carrot...if you do, please let me know.
Sometimes it's nice to stop whinging and appreciate the things you do have, the simple things.
Oranges picked while still warm from the morning sun and eggs covered in feathers and poop.