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When we first moved here in December 2013 we had an orange tree and a lime bush, both recently planted. The lime was about knee high, and every once in a while he'd produce a sweet little flower that would disappear into the ether. I began wondering whether the "cloven ones" were eating the flowers. A few years back mrguy put chicken wire around the lime bush and it started thriving. Then mr yuki pruned it and it started looking like a tree. It is now 7 feet high. Last year we had a bumper crop of flowers, but the wind knocked them all off. Except for one. We named him Limey.
It's never good when you're down to one of something and you name it and you go visit it on the weekends to see how it's doing. I would tell myself how much I'm actually enjoying even having lime leaf to add to recipes. That can be good enough if Limey doesn't make it, right? But Limey endured.
Normal people would be embarrassed to admit how many photos of a single, growing lime they have on their phone. But he was like our citrus child. And two weeks ago he grew up and graduated from the tree.
Here he is, at harvest. Notice that he's a little on the yellow side. We believe that he is a Bearrs Lime. That's kinda normal.
Here he is after being released from the only home he has ever known:
Here he is on the inside. Seedless:
And here he is in his fullest expression, in a Hendricks gin and tonic. His skin was so oily and fragrant!
This year there will be more limes, because the tree has finally decided to bear fruit on the regular. Here is some of the upcoming crop:
But there will only be one Limey.
The mama shows no signs of slowing down. Physically, that is. She's at a good stable place and has been hanging out there on a steady plateau for about 8 months. This is good, because it means that my siblings and I aren't at each others' throats about her care. The mama has two great caregivers, one of whom is very beloved, and it's all pretty good.
There are still issues with where she lives, though. We never speak of Alzheimer's. Everybody in charge at her community knows Mom's deal, but we all politely dance around the subject for as long as we can. Sometimes the dance is more like the plot of an elaborate caper movie. Such was the case this past weekend.
We've gotten notice that due to seating considerations, our caregiver isn't allowed to sit with the mama in the dining room. We want to find a way to skirt the rule. In addition, there are new caregiver guidelines and forms to fill out. So our weekend with the mama kicked off with an hour and fifteen minute phone call between we three daughters, and the discussions continued all weekend, while we were taking care of Mom. Bigsis would watch the mama while I answered middlesis' emails and followup emails. I was also turning word docs into pdfs and filling them out for people and sending them to mrguy so he could print. Bigsis and I would recap for hours after the mama was asleep. One of us would be on mama duty during the night, as well, waking up with her when her motion alarm goes off.
When we returned from our trip, mrguy ended up meeting me at Mom's to deliver the prints so that I could hide them for the caregivers to sign. Madness. And not much fun, if this wasn't already clear.
I took some good pictures, though.
Our drive was absolutely gorgeous:
The annual shrimp cocktail at our lunch place is worth the steep price:
And the mama looked spiffy in her birthday socks. These knitted shoes are the ones we finally found that fit her feet and feel nice for her. We did not buy them from the Russian guy (who I swear still tries to call me, but I've blocked his number).
Next year my sis and I think that we'll make what is now a whole weekend activity into a really long drive instead of staying over. This is getting way too hard.
Literally.
This cactus was showing large, promising buds during December but didn't flower until recently.
I am enjoying his sojourn on the front porch.
