In our front garden, we have five or six fruit trees and numerous other food plants. I planted out the front garden like this because I wanted to preserve space in the back garden for vegetables.
Last year our apricot tree, which is closest to the footpath, was covered in fruit. While in the garden picking fruit, or tending to the trees, I had many lovely conversations with people from our neighbourhood. People commented positively on the garden, and were impressed with the number of apricots on the tree, little kids asked their parents about them as they walked by. On one occasion, an old man who I’ve seen walking in our neighbourhood over many years, but have never spoke to, said that he had been admiring my garden for many years and congratulated me on its progress.
That season we picked at least four big buckets full of apricots and ate heaps straight from the tree. My daughter made dried apricots during a four day heat wave using a re-purposed insect house – this possibly being the *only* good thing to come from four days straight above 40 degrees Celsius.
We put a little basket of apricots out by the footpath in the afternoon so that people walking home from the train station could have a sweet apricot to eat.
My eight year old son and I made a stack of apricot jam. He cut all the apricots, added the ingredients to the pot and stirred it all until it got too hot to be safe for him. We made ten jars and gave a few away. It was super fun process and the jam is delicious.
We had more apricots than we knew what I do with, so I made apricot nectar, which if I remember correctly, was just apricots and a little sugar heated gently and then blended. I froze most of it in ice-cube trays to put in my proteins shake/smoothies.
And that is the story of the apricots.