A few years ago, a fraternity moved in next door to my house. A less than ideal situation for me, since I’m a quiet teetotaler these days (except when I’m in my car and then love to try to get James Hetfield to blow out my speakers…still sober, of course) and this particular fraternal order of Greeks had a deep thirst and love of beer pong. So when it moved away, the only thing I missed was my apple sapling.
In all the thousands of apples I’ve eaten in my many thousands of days of life, I had never found a germinated seed, and then one day it happened. Of course I planted it. It grew and was on its way to becoming an apple tree when it disappeared. There had been a gathering next door the night before and so, on a hunch, I followed the trail of red plastic cups scattered on the ground like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs and, sure enough, I found the sad remains of the sapling lying in a broken heap in the street. Now the implication that a drunken frat boy got a wild notion to abscond with my sapling, perhaps thinking he might take up horticulture but then reconsidered three blocks from my house and threw the sapling to the ground as some symbolic gesture of the torment of his unfulfilled verdant dreams, is just speculation. The street sign by my house also vanished one night, so I won’t rule out imps of some sort.
I performed an emergency transplant, but the tree perished. Anyhow, I thought my chances were meager of ever finding another sprouting apple seed, so my feelings about fraternities have been colored by the personal lose of my sapling…until last week. To my delight, all the Pink Crisps I bought at Safeway contained germinating seeds. My husband thinks the apples might be from a batch that escaped the normal radiation treatment store-bought produce is subjected to. He may be onto something, since twenty seconds of intense Google research supports his theory.
Here are the three seedlings that show promise. I’m thinking of naming them Tau, Kappa and Epsilom. I wonder if they like beer?