So I had this orange tree.
It was a big, beautiful, potted tree that provided me with delicious oranges and it filled the house with the most amazing smell whenever it bloomed. I loved my tree.
Then I moved away and I had to temporarily leave a friend in charge of the tree. When I returned to retrieve my beloved I realized that I never left care instructions. The friend had left the tree outside, in the middle of winter, for several months. My once majestic bearer of fruit had withered to a leafless, dried up hulk of its former self. For all intense and purposes my friend had passed on to the big arboretum in the sky. I kept him around for several months, next to the biggest window in the house, close to a heat source, and gave him plenty of water, hoping for a miracle rebirth, but it never came.
Then one day, months after I had given up all hope, as I was getting ready to throw the corpse of my tree into the recycling bin, my mom spotted the tiniest little sprout of green coming from the under side of one of the branches. Elated I cleared away all the dead leaves and cobwebs, and trimmed the tree down to almost nothing. Since then he has grown like a weed.
So yeah...longest blog post about a house plant ever. Sorry. It's only been a few days and I'm bored already. And I seem to be putting off the last few things that I need to do to finish my last college class. Probably because I don't want college to be over.
I think I'm going to name him Jesus. Either that or Mickey Rourke.
