Is there a Confucius in the House?

Is there a Confucius in the House?

When I was a child we had a wonderful apricot tree in the back yard. The taste of a freshly picked apricot remains one of my special pleasures to this day. So when we moved to our new house, it was with delight that I noticed the apricot tree already well established in our yard.

Alas, that first summer there was not an apricot on the tree come harvest time. There were several delicious peaches, though, on the other tree planted there.

Our landlord brought in a tree expert, who tended to our trees, doing deep feeding, spraying, and telling us how best to water them. Pruning was also done.

Next year: no apricots, and three peaches. The Norwegian Pine was looking much better, though.

Third year: apricots developing all over the tree. Peach tree full of tiny green peaches. Bonanza!

All of the fruit began growing larger, as it should. Heavier, too. We had to prop up one main branch of the peach tree, it was so full of peaches. Then, disaster. One entire main branch of the peach tree completely cracked off, in spite of the prop we had in place. Lost. Gone forever.

It was then that I thought to read our Sunset Gardening book. Well, it seems peaches should be culled so that they are spaced 8 inches apart on the branch. We quickly did that to the remaining branch of the tree. Apricots should be spaced every 6 inches: we quickly did that too. It hurt to pull off what must have amounted to 2/3 of the crop.

The remaining apricots were beginning to change from green to light yellow. It shouldn't be long now! A few were beginning to fall off, but the local nursery sent an advisory, telling us that this was normal for the tree to do. We were approaching an orange coloring when the drop rate began picking up. Squirrels were beginning to enjoy the ones on the tree. Squirrels! It was time for action.

Neill pulled out the ladder and began harvesting. We tasted. Hm, rather sour, and not much flavor. A knowing friend counseled us to go ahead and pick, then leave the fruit laying out on trays in the kitchen. It would be fine. Well, no, it wasn't. A little less sour, but hardly any flavor.

By this time, it was falling off the tree at an alarming rate. Neill would pick up 50 to 100 apricots at a time. None of them any good, of course, as they squashed upon reaching the concrete patio. I tried spreading out a bed pad beneath the tree, to cushion the fruit as it fell. No matter where I positioned it, the fruit seemed to have a different destination in mind.

By now we were collecting boxes full of bad apricots. the smell became more noticeable as they began fermenting.

We had had lots of sunshine, which seemed to have served to sweeten the fruit a little. Or was that just an expression of my optimism?

At our invitation, a local friend brought over 2 ladders and 2 strong young men. They picked all the rest of the fruit they could reach. Unfortunately, they had brought ladders the same height as ours, so the stuff on the top is still there. Well, that which has not yet fallen, anyway.

When I go by the little tray of apricots still in the kitchen, I dutifully eat one or two.

Today I washed the mattress pad which had failed at cushioning falling apricots. Well, it had not failed as badly as I had thought. There were squish stains in many places. I threw it in the wash with the sheets. It turned out the apricots were not done with me yet. When I lifted the laundry out to put it in the dryer, I learned that those "stains" were composed of skins of the fruit, which the sheets were now festooned with. Is there no end to my disappointment with that apricot tree?

So I call for a Confucius to come forth among you. There must be an adage or a moral or a teaching which is illustrated by this story. I trust this most valuable family to come up with an appropriate one. What should we learn from this?

P.S. The neighbor's fruit is lousy, too. We think it was the weather.