A chocolate torte went to my friend Edie, the second (I always make two) was for Donna.
Donna’s husband Clyde stopped by to pick it up and was reveling at the idea of being able to actually see friends in person again at last. He was delighted when I offered him Meyer lemons from our tree; we walked around the back to pick some.
I had been munching on exactly those all winter long to try to fend off pandemic pounds.
He’d grown up here when there were still Blenheim apricot orchards in the hills.
I dashed inside a quick moment, knowing time was pressing for him, and grabbed the pound box of slab Blenheims from Andy’s Orchard that I’d opened a few days earlier, not quite full but close enough in the rush.
He tried one. I told him I had another box and Andy’s was about to open for the season so I could get more, take them, enjoy.
Man, that felt good.
If Donna wants one, too–his eyes lit up at the thought–one of my apricot seedlings is going to have a great yard to grow up in. The newest and tiniest (shown alone and for comparison) got a slow start but in the heat these last few days has grown its roots to over four inches long. It’ll do great. But whichever, they’re all good.