Orange Crush

I’m at one of those wretched ‘turning point’ moments in my life right now. Gonna *gasp* graduate this summer, still mulling over career choices (NO, I don’t have an offer as yet! thanks for the concern) and trying the eliminativist approach to finally zero-in on one. Options under consideration this week were a) marry a decaying, old millionaire and hope he would be worm food in a few (6+) months b) be an obese prostitute catering to the very discerning, fat-fetish loving gentlemen and c) be a farmer. For reasons aesthetic, the former two were dismissed after many heated discussions with friends, which left me with well, farming. It didn’t seem like a bad option – join the home counties set, wear wellies/ comfy Barbour stuff all day long/go riding along the tiny brook at your estate etc. Hmm… a charming life. It’s almost like you never left St Andrews. BUT (how predictable, eh?) it obviously wasn’t meant to be.

Two weeks ago, my dear friend and neighbour Vera left me in charge of her orange tree. Now, tree/plant sitting or pet sitting is a double-edged sword, on the one hand you’re kicked because the owner trusts you enough to leave you their tree/plant/pet but on the other hand, you’re terrified because you know that they’re weighing you, measuring you for the possible role of a god mother or something similar in the future. But I thought this little tree should present no significant problems. And it didn’t. For one week. It shed an occasional leaf or two, and I thought it was quite normal. It was autumn, after all. So, I watered it, kept it by the window sill to soak up the sun and even starting calling it Ramsey (after my favorite Economist ). Second week. I notice that there is a considerable increase in the rate of leaf fall. I also realise that orange trees are NOT deciduous! Needless to say, I panicked. I watered it again and I kept it in direct sunlight. No improvement. Surprisingly enough, it hasn’t affected the fruits. There are still about a dozen of them. Not all hope is lost. However, it’s the end of the second week now and the tree looks a little, ermm, naked. I can no longer be passive and watch it sulk. Besides, I’ve grown quite fond of Ramsey. So, I went and bought the citrus feed and the gardening shop ladies assured me that it should improve the condition. But I’m not so sure. And I’m terrified to face Vera and explain the circumstances and see her crest-fallen face. I’m also worried that other friends who might have considered naming me as their children’s god mother would think twice about it! Or even worse, strike my name off the list! GULP!

Well, at least one good thing did emerge out of all this horticulture fiasco. We are all in concurrence that perhaps farming really isn’t my calling. I have been and will always be a city girl. Guess the choice now has to be between IBanking, Consulting, Accounting, Law, Advertising…ARGH!

I think I’m gonna go listen to some suicide music now.
Wait, I can’t.
What if it further upsets Ramsey!?
Talk about bad karma.

* Wanted to put a picture of Ramsey up. But later decided against it, on grounds of preserving the poor tree’s dignity.