On June 28, 2012, after softening the dirt all night with a trickle from the hose, Jerry dug a hole and we set the pit in the middle, pushing enough dirt all around to shore it up.
Some websites say avocados planted from pits will never produce fruit but we have at least low expectations that this one will because its daddy (mommy?) in our neighbors’ yard did. Theirs sprouted from a pit their son Adrian launched with water and toothpicks when he was in grade school (about ten years ago) and it seems an exceedingly luxuriant, happy speciman. It bears avocados so big the squirrels who steal them can barely drag them across the street and have to leave them at the foot of their trees, slightly gnawed at one end and vulnerable to being re-stolen by us.
Since I was boat-schooled, as Jerry puts it, I never had the thrill of watching something grow from a seed. (Well, I gave birth to two children but I didn’t get to see them start from seeds.)
Our seven-leafed seedling has survived in the ground for over a week now. Make that six-leafed. It sprouted a new one after being planted. Then we followed internet advice and reluctantly pinched off the two newest leaves to make the tree bushy, although it seems kind of a mean thing to do to something so young that’s trying so hard. Not to mention counterproductive. Jerry hummed Taps as we threw the tiny leaves away.
Here’s Jerry guarding the newcomer to show where it’s planted in our front yard, in full sun with plenty of space around it.
In 3-15 years (according to various websites) if it bears fruit at all (or are avocados vegetables?) it may grace us with the means to make guacamole dip. Since there seem to be only four of you following this blog, you’re all invited. Bring your chips of choice.
You know we really have no idea what we’re doing. I’m glad God has given the avocado good instincts to thrive in spite of us. (Come to think of it, that’s what He did with our children, too.)