One day a few years ago, I squeezed lemon juice from a wedge which had been packed in my lunch for use with a relaxing thermos of hot tea. The lemon was so dense that a seed, which would have been removed prior to packing, escaped detection; it had also germinated and had green shoots at both ends. Not being well versed in lemon genetics, or the possible harm from using a lemon with progeny, I kept the seed and drank the juice in my tea anyway. It was fine, and shortly after that the seed went into a cup of water until I was able to put it into a pot. It promptly died; I think I may have planted it backward (so much for a yellow thumb).
A few weeks later, it happened again. It seemed to me that some great force in the universe wanted me to plant a lemon seed, so in spite of my failure the first time, I tried again. This seed thrived on a sunny windowsill in the office, and has since gone through four pots and six or seven soil changes. I found a Miracle-Gro(R) soil specifically for citrus and cactus plants which gets greedily fed upon as if I were raising Audrey II from “Little Shop of Horrors.”
That little seed project #2 has, in fact, become Audrey III, a tall leafy plant some four feet or so tall. I don’t dare risk my back to take it from its table to set it on the floor to measure it, but it leans toward the window like a tanner tilting the beach umbrella seeking the best dose of sun. The running joke in the office is when we’ll see a lemon on it. It’s unlikely to happen indoors, as somebody brought up the fact that it can’t be pollinated inside. Also, living in the Northeast, it’s not destined for life outdoors anyway.
So what does one do with a lemon tree?
And no, killing is not an option.
Suggestions have been made to donate it to a nursery or greenhouse, though there is a chance that it can continue to grow indoors if it’s fertilized properly and re-potted when necessary. For now, it’s thriving wonderfully. It does make a nice addition to the office decor; donated flags have made it the most patriotic tree around. There are only so many size pots, so I guess I’ll cross the bridge again when I reach it. It would certainly earn its keep if it makes lemonade.
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