As some of you might have noticed, this is the Year of Ambition here in our Florida backyard. We’re growing things here we’ve never even contemplated growing before, and having to scramble in the knowledge department to keep up.
Citrus, for example, can be tricky, especially when container-grown, as we’re doing. The Meyer lemon seems easygoing enough…it likes a fair amount of water every day and seems content to just set and grow fruit. The Key Lime is another story, though. It has curling leaves, which can mean either over-watering, under-watering, aphids, thrips, sunspots, or the return of Elvis. Depends on who you ask.
And this morning, all the leaves on one branch are mysteriously gone.
“I just don’t feel PRETTY today. And I have NOTHING TO WEAR!!” Just what I need…a fruit tree with emotional issues.
We’re growing a number of melons this year, too. The serpent “melon” was sent to the compost heap after it fruited and started withering. The tigger melon, obviously bereft after the serpent melon’s departure, has committed oibara, and will shortly be joining its friend in Compost Nirvana.
The pineapple melon began to look peaky immediately after setting its first fruit, so I transplanted it from a pot into Box #2 (aka: The Cucumber Box), where it, yes, continues to look peaky.
So, gentle readers, why are my melon plants looking like aging starlets after too much botox after setting fruit, and what in the name of purple peanuts is going on with my Key Lime tree? Inquiring minds want to know.
Update: Et tu, Orchard Baby?
