Figlet

Oooooh, we love fig trees. The LWI loves the fruit, which reminds him of his faraway homeland; I love the dusty cool scent of the leaves. We figured out a year or so ago that this was a climate that could support figs, and when we found out that our friend Sparky had thriving trees, we were just beside ourselves with glee.

She came over for lunch earlier this week, and glorious creature that she is, she brought us a cutting from one of her fig trees, which we planted this morning. We have a big gaping sun-baked space in the back yard where a dense Bradford pear used to stand; when this little guy gets bigger, he should provide some welcome shade.

I'm anthropomorphizing a little much, but he's so darned cute. I'm seriously tempted to make little pencil marks on the fence to mark how fast he grows.

In the longstanding tradition of blogger self-portraits, here we are, the fig and I: