Anyhoo, I was looking at one of my old Lululemon bags from Canada. I know this because the bags sold in Canada are often different. Or in French as was the case when we lived in Quebec. Here is a picture of the bag my mom gave me I believe at Christmas 2007. It has New Years Resolutions written all over it.
I remember when I got the bag (and the awesome clothes inside the bag) reading the resolution about owning a Fig Tree by 2009. I thought it was kind of a random and cool resolution. After all, who resolves to do that? As someone who grew up in the frozen arctic tundra of Calgary (ha ha) the concept of growing a fig tree was completely foreign. That Christmas we had just moved to Rhode Island. A tiny state I had never even heard of before my husband started travelling there for work a few years earlier. But even there it didn't seem possible to own a fig tree.
So, I kind of forgot about it for a couple of years. But, one thing I learned quickly after moving to RI was that it is fond of all things Italian. One of them being fig trees. We enjoyed eating at Venda Ravioli and in the summer they would offer a fig salad with figs brought in by one of the waitresses and picked from her dad's fig tree. Cool!
There was a family owned gas station in East Greenwich that I loved to go to. It was a self serve station which for me had become a completely foreign thing. I was so happy to have the opportunity to have someone else pump my gas a) because I'm lazy b) because I hate getting out in the cold or rain and c) because I had small children and leaving them in the car was sometimes an issue. The first day we went there the Nonno who pumped the gas came out and picked some pansies and gave them to Jenna and I with much flourish. How could you not go to a place like this? Not only that but they had a garage so I could bring my car in there every time it broke down.
The point of this? Well they are Italian. The Nonno immigrated from Italy and had a beautiful strong accent. He turned the front of his gas station into a wonderful little garden. Aside from the flowers he would grow cucumbers, tomatoes, herbs, and - get this - figs! I asked him about the fig trees and he said he kept them in pots and would store them at the nursery across the street so they didn't freeze.
We were renting our house so I knew even trying to plant a fig tree was out of the question, and I still was not sure it would survive in a pot but I was willing to try. It became kind of an obsession for me. I started looking at all the garden centers and no where did they sell a fig tree. Then one day, I was at the Stop and Shop and there sitting outside stuck in with all the flowers were FIG TREES! I was so excited! I bought two of them (and a blueberry bush) and brought them home to see what they would do.
I wish I had a picture of how sad they were when we moved to Virginia. For the two years I had them in RI (I didn't manage that person's resolution and didn't get mine until 2009) and they lived outside I often forgot to water them and they would get to the point where they were just about to die before the hose would find it's way to them. Then I would forget to bring them inside until after they had lost all their leaves and I thought they were dead. They would live inside in our dining room all winter and were maybe watered 3 times. Both springs we were sure they were dead but we put them outside to see what they would do. Obviously the first year they came back to life, but the second year we were in a state of such change they were fully neglected.
We moved to Virginia in the spring of 2011 and the poor fig sticks were just that - little dead sticks in pots. I asked the moving guys if they would move my trees - and my equally dead blueberry stick. They agreed - very begrudgingly - but said they would be in the van for several days with no water or light. I said to try anyway and we would see what happened.
When my little sticks arrived in VA we decided to just put them in the ground and see what would happen. I bought a much more healthy fig plant at the market and we planted them close together. They were each maybe 2 feet high and there was not much width to them at all.
Well, this summer we enjoyed a few weeks of daily figging from my little fig sticks who have completely taken off. They are no longer little fig sticks, but quickly becoming out of control full fledged trees that are now over 5 feet:
With yummy figs on them:
To be turned into yummy things like pizza:
Brad was looking at the trees and fretting that they were soon going to take over the yard so last night he moved them to the far end of the yard where they will be free to grow into (hopefully) huge fruit bearing monsters.
I can't believe I live in a place where I own a thriving fig tree!
ps. My blueberry twig has turned into a bush as well and we had blueberries in the morning many times this summer.
No comments:
Post a Comment