The greatest Irony

The Greatest Irony

Betty & I went on a lovely drive to the Carrizo Plains National Monument today.  We drove through the orchards and fields, through Buttonwillow,  the oilfields and McKittrick.  On the way to show her the McKittrick Brea Pit on 58W, I stopped in the middle of the road for a great sun worshipping gopher snake.  I saved it from getting run over.  I showed Betty the gas bubbling through the oil at the brea pit.   There was a little mouse that had gotten stuck in the tar.  His feet and nose were buried.  He never had a chance.  You’d think they would learn after 10,000 years. 

The drive over the Temblor range this time of year is beautiful.  There is still a lot of green grass and the soda Lake has lots of water in it.  The Carrizo Plain National Monument has a little museum and visitor center.  But the Indian rock painting monument is closed this time of year.  On the way back an oilfield truck crashed into a power pole and Reward Road was closed to traffic.  I know my way through the Cymric oilfield so we wound our way through the leases and went to the McKittrick Hotel for lunch.    I had an Ortega bacon cheeseburger with a salad.  Betty had the seafood platter.  It was good, but I would rather have gone to Luigi’s or Noriega’s. 

As soon as we got home, I started on the yard work.  On my hands and knees pulling weeds, I was in a daze working.  One thing led to another and I keep seeing more things to cut and weeds to pull.  My radio was going and Lily was with me.  It was nice to be out, but after 2 ½ hours, I just wanted to get done…

I have always wanted an avocado tree in the yard.  Several attempts have failed.  It’s either too hot in the summer or it freezes in winter.  However, I can’t help but to keep trying.  Numerous glasses and dishes have adorned our kitchen window sill and counter top with avocado pits trying to get one started.  I had roots going on one just to have the house sitter let it go dry and die while we were gone.  And recently a little shoot finely got started but can’t seem to keep going.  Betty has expressed many times the fruitlessness of these attempts over the years.   But yesterday, Lia came home with a bag of small avocados that were grown in Bakersfield.  So it can be done.  Maybe that’s why they sell potted avocado trees at the home stores.  I thought people were suckers to pay $35 for a tree that was sure to freeze or die of Bakersfield heat.  But here they are, proof.   I’ll have to keep trying to get one started.

As I was cleaning up in front in my gardening daze today, I saw a tree growing up through the Camilla bush.  The tree had apparently been there for some time because it had grown up through the Camilla that is 7 feet tall.  There was nice new growth at the top with numerous little leaves poking out to the sun.  I looked at the leaves on top and the green stock.  I didn’t readily recognize it until I pulled it out by the roots.  As I’m holding this 7’ tall tree in my hand, I get a look at the larger leaves toward the bottom of the trunk.  It was then that I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I began to recognize it as a healthy avocado tree.  Well, it was healthy until I yanked it out of the ground.  How could I have done that after all my attempts to grow a seedling?  It must have been growing for several years.  Nice and protected in the Camilla bush.  I started thinking when I might have planted a seed there.  Damn it, I am so pissed.  Frustration leads to aggression, I broke it up into about 5 pieces and stuffed it into the trash can and finished my yard work devastated at my stupidity. 

As I continued working, I got thinking.  Was it really an avocado tree?  It couldn’t be.  It’s too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer, right?  Damn it.  It was just getting big enough to start blooming.  It couldn’t be an avocado tree.  I would have recognized it.  Damn it.

My neighbor was out. She would know what an avocado tree looks like.  I called her over to check it out.  I dig the yard waste out of the green trash can and dumped it on the sidewalk until I found the broken tree and pulled it out.  “That’s and avocado tree.  What’s it doing in the trash?”, she said.

“I pulled it up”

“You idiot” and she hit me. 

“It was an accident”.  But I deserved to be hit.  I’m just glad she is old.

Damn it.  So now I felt so guilty that I made an attempt to rescue it.  I cut the trunk off at about a foot up from the roots and planted it in a planter.  I put the pot back under the Camilla bush where it came from hoping that it would be happy back where it was.  I am hopeful but have reasonable expectations. Hey, I’m going to start putting avocado seeds directly into the ground where they belong.  Maybe I can get another one started.