Plums

This spring, we had two plum trees removed from the back yard. One was dead, and one was in the shadow of the large evergreen that was dying and also needed to be removed. Even so, after all the destruction, two plum trees remain back there against the back fence. And in the front yard, we still have one very large plum tree that produces sweet green plums.

I suppose the guy in the front yard heard the news as his brother was chopped down and dragged away to become mulch. Or perhaps the extra snow last winter inspired him. Or maybe he's missing the elderly father figure who used to own our house and care for him lovingly. Whatever it was, the front yard plum tree decided that This Year was the year to Reproduce.

There were more plums than leaves on that tree. As the plums grew, the branches sunk lower and lower to the ground. One night in August, Tim heard a loud crack. The next morning, one-fifth of the tree in the form of a huge limb had broken off, weighted down by plums. Over the next couple of days, Tim stripped it of its unripened fruit, packed them into our two huge camping coolers, and chopped up the limb and removed it.

We had two huge coolers of fruit from the fallen limb.

Several days later, we found the fruit in the coolers was actually turning soft and ripening. In fact, it was all ripening at about the same time. What could we do with two huge coolers of plums?

We took it to relatives. One grandma helped distribute the contents of one cooler to her neighbors. She also made a batch of jam (not even a dent in the amount of plums) and helped me make some fruit leather (using just one bowl full of the plums). The other grandma took the other cooler, including giving a couple of bags to my sister. The sister went home and made seven batches of fruit leather. This grandma did a few things with plums, but not fast enough, and reported that she had to throw some out. As long as they are off my property, I don't care what happens to them.

Meanwhile the plums on the tree were ripening, and the other limbs were straining under them. We decided that if we didn't start picking we would probably have only a stump left, some major tree removal work. So we started picking.

And we picked and we picked. Two more coolers full in practically no time. I made more batches of fruit leather. And scouted around for neighbors. The man around the corner with seven children said he would take some. So we hauled an entire cooler over there. The aunt down the street said she'd love plums. So we hauled another cooler there.

And continued to pick and pit and blend and dry and harvest. And Harvest!

The plums are still not all off the tree. The highest branches are unreachable, even drooping, loaded with fruit. There is half a cooler of plums sitting in my kitchen calling out to me to Do Something! Save us all! Or we will Rot here on your floor! There is a batch of plums drying in the fruit dehydrator and five containers full of preserved plums on the counter top. And I am sick of plums! Sick of trying to keep my plum tree from self destruction. Sick of cutting and scooping and washing and blending. Sick of that little pain I get between my shoulder blades from standing over the sink too long. Sick of the dark brown plum juice that stains my fingernails and doesn't wash off.

Tim says throw them all away and be done with it. But I am done -- just after I deal with this last half cooler. Let the plums on the tree rot themselves. But that last half cooler of food must be consumed!

Thank goodness plum season is almost over. I can't wait.

Next up? Apple season.

We have five loaded apple trees.