THE BEST SURPRISES DO COME IN SMALL PACKAGES

Hmmm, I just realized it's been a very long time since I added anything to my garden journal. I suppose I should take a stroll around, making note of what's going on. You always think you will remember from one year to the next, but you never do. For instance, I need to remember that the fruit on this little tree to the left of the oak - the best discovery we ever made on this bit of land - is ripening right now (turning a dark purple-black), unlike its common cousin, who will cause your lips to pucker and your eyes to water if sampled before the first frost.

It's also much sweeter than its Asian relatives that you see in the grocery store. This, my friends, is a native Texas Persimmon, and we are extremely fortunate to have it! Especially when you consider that only one out of many is actually a female, fruiting tree. (See? I told you I was lucky!)

According to my Trees of Texas book, settlers used the juice to dye leather, and woodworking enthusiasts value the hard, heavy wood (this tree is in the ebony family). Apparently country kids used to play "ridin' 'simmon saplin's", a game where they would climb to the top of a young persimmon, bending it until they could reach the next one, and so on (they tend to grow in clusters), pretending they were Tarzan, swinging from tree to tree. Personally, I'm crazy about the way the bark peels up and makes those cute little curlicues. Not so crazy about the huge mess it's making on our nice new stone pathway.

I finally got the nerve to put tongue to fruit this week (if you've ever seen the face of someone who's just tried an unripe one, you'll understand my hesitancy), and was startled by it's tastiness. There's too many seeds and not enough fruit for it to be a great eaten-out-of-hand fruit, but I bet it'd make a mighty good jar o' jam. Only problem with that is, it turns out I'm just not much of a jelly eater, and John won't touch anything but grape. I love buying it - especially the beautiful jars of homemade preserves that I see at all the farmers' markets these days - but then it just piles up in the refrigerator until I run out of room and toss them all. So sad. Come to think of it though, the fruit did taste a lot like grape, and it would be the same color too. Wonder if John'd ever know the difference?