The “boys” have been planted! But since they bear fruit, perhaps I should give them feminine names. What is a good trio of ladies that would lend their names to a set of fig trees? I’m thinking of some of the girls I hung around with in high school. But there were more than three of us. We were the Silly Seven. That’s out.
I lean to the feminine in matters of creating and strength. We give birth at great pain and then we raise the child with little sleep and a whole lot of creativity. I remember tape recording the clothes dryer’s rumbling sounds that put my daughter to sleep and playing it by her crib so I could take a quick shower. I remember using duct tape and cardboard for childproofing electrical cords because we couldn’t afford expensive gadgets. Remnants of duct tape adhesive still scar my old end tables that I still can’t afford to replace.
Anyway, I think I’ll do some more research to re-name my fig trees. They should be the “girls” instead of the “boys” especially when they become laden with their gentle sweet treats. There are few things in life that are so satisfying to the spirit than picking fruit off your own tree and savoring it immediately.
Only one mystery remains: why am I always left with so much extra dirt after digging and re-filling a hole? The trees were bare root and there wasn’t THAT much to them. Hmmmm….