The two grapefruit grew steadily all spring and summer long. Around the first of May, I moved the plant out to the front yard, where it lived on a pedestal with a bunch of friendly petunias and mallows, gerania and gardenia, cuphea and heliotrope. It never once blew off the pedestal--that's what a nice summer we had. Fall came and it got chilly and around the second week in October I moved it into the Groanhouse. Found the heater nonfunctional thanks to some kind of mason bees, having filled up the gas ports with clay. Went on a wild search for the perfect heater. Installed a monster that is now proving to be too much for the space and the plants. Groan.
But that's another story.
On the evening of November 13, I was doing a bedcheck and found the grapefruit tree sitting in a full saucer of water. Nobody likes to sleep with wet feet, so I tilted the pot to get the saucer out from under it. The left hand fruit fell from its pot support and leapt to the floor, where it bounced and rolled. Well! I guess you're ready to drop!
Note the two green understudies cheek to jowl with the lower yellow fruit. Obviously the bees got to its summer flowers, no pinkypollinator required.
If these two greenies were conceived in June, we may be eating homegrown grapefruit again in April! I remain agog that such a paltry little plant could make two such delicious fruit. Talk about overachieving. I strive to keep it fed with time-release fertilizer, make sure it never goes dry, give it as much sun as possible, but still. It owes me nothing so extravagant.
I brought the noble fruit upstairs and kept it on the counter for a couple of days, in awe of this tiny shrublet's achievement. It was pungently fragrant, heavy with juice. I weighed it: 11 oz. Which is a very respectable weight for a small grapefruit. Heavier than the ones in the stores right now, and no smaller.
Chet Baker wondered what the fuss was about when the time came for Cutting the Grapefruit.
It was so beautiful. I couldn't bear to take a knife to it. But that's what it is for.
I steeled myself and sliced. Never was there a finer fleshed, juicier, more delicious Ohio Ruby Red grapefruit born. OK, it's not red. But we aren't in Florida, are we?
Bill made a little video. And me, still in my jammies. I just wish I could give each one of you a section.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
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