A Partridge in a Pear Tree

The holiday season is a time when you may hear an awful lot of singing about Pear Trees. With Partridges in them. I don't know why. There are conflicting stories about the origins of the Twelve Days of Christmas, and I don't want to join the debate.

But I do want to share my discovery of an espaliered Pear tree that lives in the glorious Cloisters in Manhattan. What, you may ask, is an espaliered tree? Well, I've just now learned that to espalier is to train a tree (generally a fruit tree, it seems) to grow in a pattern or shape, flat against a wall or lattice. A 2-D tree! Basically this might be perfect for my future Brooklyn garden. But it also seems to have been rather popular in medieval times. In any case, the Cloisters is a wonderful secret haven in northern Manhattan that is a home to amazing medieval European art and architecture. And trees. The gardens are not particularly big, but they are immensely charming and satisfying. And peaceful. Oh, to be a monk. And there are pear trees. Also, you can follow the Cloisters Garden blog here.

Apple Picking!

One of my favorite memories of this time of year growing up in Upstate New York is apple picking. Every year we'd bundle up, mom would pack a picnic lunch, and we'd pile into the car and head to Littletree Orchards. Other families and friends would usually come, and while all the parents would get out the bushel baskets and begin picking Empires (the local favorite) us kids would run free among (what seemed like) miles and rows and rows of apple trees! The orchard was called "Littletree" for a reason. Even as children, we could reach the branches and pick a perfectly crisp, ripe apple from the tree and rub a shiny spot just large enough to take a juicy bite before tossing it away and running to another tree for different type of apple. My favorites were a huge, green, very crisp variety called (appropriately) Crispin or Mutsu. I also loved the Macoun - some of them were so large I had to use two hands to hold one apple in order to bite into it.

Ahh...I miss those NY apples. They do NOT taste the same anywhere else - they have to be fresh! I don't like apples when I'm not in NY.

At some point after we had worked up an appetite, mom would get out the cider and powdered donuts, and we'd have a snack, and then my dad would organize a contest. We all had to try to find and bring back the best apple in a range of categories, such as: "Largest," "Most Red," "Smallest," (some of us would bring back berries and try to pass them off as apples), and occasionally there was the creative contestant - One year my sister was the self-declared winner of the "Most-Rotten-Apple-Still-Hanging-On-The-Tree" category.

The final hurrah was at the top of the little hill in the clearing, when the boys would have batting practice with icky apples that had fallen onto the ground. It was messy and funny and just a wonderful time.

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For the record...I didn't take these photos. I refuse to go apple picking in North Carolina. I can't WAIT to go home for Thanksgiving and have some Cornell Apple Cider. The best in the world! You should all be thoroughly jealous.

Figs and Ficus

My dear friends, I apologize for my absence. I've been indisposed as of late, and am just now resurfacing. (It was a much longer recovery than I could have imagined it would be!)

Let me tell you about my latest discovery. Much to my surprise and delight, there is a fig tree, not 50 paces from my front door. I've often passed this tree on the way to the pool, and noticed the strange, bulbous green growths, but had no idea what they could be. An exited neighbor (a couple weeks ago) enlightened me that it was, in fact, a fig tree, and that there was an abundance of nearly ripe figs just about to burst.

Well, then along came my surgery and it took me quite a while to get out of the house to walk even those 50 steps with my camera. But I have recovered. I took a few (unexciting) photos, but I think I missed most of the ripe fruit, though I imagine they were bursting off the trees last week while I was lying on the couch watching the entire Season 1 and 2 of Grey's Anatomy (pathetic, I know).

I have since learned that fig trees are in the ficus genus, which I found interesting because all I really know about ficus trees is that they are finicky, hard to grow, and they drop their leaves when they aren't happy. (This could be a vast generalization based on the case of the sad little indoor ficus that the BF and his siblings killed by confining it to a dark, dreary room and throwing it only a cupful of water every few weeks. Once I found out, it was much too late to save...)

(In his defense, he's done a remarkable job watering the tomato plants as of late).

You'll see that the fig tree is also right next to a cool Eucalyptus tree. More on that tomorrow...

Plum tree

Today I saw a plum tree. I actually discovered it yesterday as I was taking a walk in Arlington, VA (while visiting a friend) and the sidewalk suddenly became sticky and red. I was astonished to find my feet surrounded by squished plums and exposed pits. I don't believe I'd ever even considered the existence of plum trees, and there I was, standing directly under one. I looked up and saw the little fruits hanging in small clusters and could faintly detect the unmistakable scent of fresh plum juice.

Today I returned with my camera so I could share my discovery. Are plum trees common? I have no idea. I've never encountered one before that I can recall. There were so many neglected fallen plums that I expect the novelty has worn off for those who live with the tree. But I think I would enjoy having a fruit tree in my yard. The only (and very significant) aversion I have to it is that it appears that plum trees attract squirrels. Evil, black ones. I watched as one Evil Black Squirrel would nibble a plum for a while, and then throw the rest of it to the ground, and move on to the next one. Do NOT get me started on squirrels...

Seriously. (you can see the little bastard approaching the tree if you click on the photo above and view it larger).

But back to the plum tree. It was a lovely discovery and I felt that I couldn't walk away without tasting one. There were a few plump ones on the ground, but as I couldn't be sure whether or not an Evil Black Squirrel had thrown them down, I felt it best to pick one from the tree. I did so, and took a bite, and it was delicious. A bit tart, but I suppose that's because I didn't want to risk squirrel disease and picked one slightly under ripe. I ate the rest and walked away satisfied.