The Kumquat is in Bloom Again. And Other News.

I had this disoriented feeling, at 5 this morning, like seeing the sun and the moon in the sky and not knowing (in my woozy, what the hell am I doing out of bed state) whether it was dawn or sunset. The kumquat has new buds--at the same time that it's sporting what appears to be a bumper crop of little fruities.

As this is my first kumquat, and I have such lousy luck with fruit plants (though I persist in buying them) I have no idea if this is an aberration. But we have Carol--The Prince's ex-girlfriend thrice-removed-- arriving tomorrow morning and staying with us for a week and so I am particularly pleased at this development. I'm never more attractive than when I'm looking modest. I'll lower my lashes as she enviously sniffs the delicious scent of the opening blossoms that I've had absolutely nothing to do with producing.  

I don't think I can call up a blush. My tan this summer is so dark that the other day, traipsing home from it doesn't matter where, a guy standing on a corner called out "Hola!" And when I ground to a startled halt, turned and grunted "Huh?" he said, "Oh, sorry! You're so brown I thought you were Latina." 

To which I called out, "Gracias!" 


The interesting (to me) part of this is that I was listening to Juanes on my ipod at the time, swishy bopping along... I guess I had the rhythm down. La Camisa Negra, by the way, is a most moving song for walking, painting walls, mopping floors, and other energetic tasks. It is terrible background music for writing.


I'm looking forward to Carol visiting, just as I look forward to visits by all of The Prince's ex-girlfriends. He has fine taste in women, they're all quick and smart and funny. I sometimes suspect that their trips are reminder visits. They come, look at his half-finished projects and the extraordinary mess that is his garage--it's tempting to nominate him for that hoarding show--and leave with a sigh of relief.  


Mi amor....


In other news. 

The plumeria that was a bare branch when I bought it back in March -- the grinning Asian woman behind a counter of blooming plants of intoxicating scent explained that you stick it in soil in a sunny spot and by early summer (given our climate)  it will send out shoots. I've heard this story several times before and been beguiled, only to be the proud owner of a rotted stick as summer rolled around. But the fragrance!!! And so I bought. And this time ...look at the leaves! Maybe! Could it be? And in just the dime-sized splotch of sun that I found for it? I don't remember if I'm anticipating a pink or a yellowish flower, but I'll be thrilled with either. 

Now this is a shocker -- the wretched double pink hibiscus that I've had for--what--15 years? The one that has given me five flowers over time and I'm probably exaggerating? The one that after all of my love talk and such developed such a case of disgusting little bugs last winter--rejecting all treatments-- that I was about to toss it out? Well, I couldn't do it. I brutalized it instead, lopping the branches back to nubbins and hiding it in the gloom of the way back garden where its skeletal remains would be hidden behind the ferns and such. And just look at it! 


Would it hurt to give me one lousy flower or is that too much to expect? This should teach me something about the value of pruning but probably won't.