Diary of a Spinster Aunt: Entry #28 - Albino Avocado
More than once, after partaking in a delicious avocado, I have been struck by the strange desire to plant the giant seed found inside. Not being one to deny myself any of my odd or capricious notions, I have often followed through with the planting said seeds. What can I say? I like to get my nurture on, and until I acquire the standard “Five Cat Combo” of a true spinster I will have to settle for the nurturing of some trees that will not bear fruit for 20 years.
The most famous of my avocado children lived more than five years, grew to over four feet tall, and upon its untimely death caused me to experience the kind of grief that is usually reserved for the death of a human being; So deep was my despair that the dry and dead avocado carcass stayed in the planter for more than a year due to my refusal to actually acknowledge its death.
My dad, aware of how deeply the “avocado incident” had affected me, kindly brought me an avocado plant he had grown himself to replace my “lost child”. Encouraged by the robustness of this plant, I planted another seed a few months ago. When it started to sprout I thought it looked a little different than my previous plants, but didn’t think much of it. As it developed further, I couldn’t ignore that this avocado definitely had pale pink/white leaves. I consulted the googles and discovered that I had, by some crazy miracle, grown myself one Albino Avocado.
I immediately name it “Darren”, after the smartest, funniest, and coincidentally, the only person with albinism with whom I am acquainted. I fall in love with Darren’s pale beauty an cherish his uniqueness among plants. I belatedly realize that Darren (the plant, not the human) lacks chlorophyll and will thus be unable to photosynthesize…a botanical death sentence!
You can imagine, Diary, that after the earlier “avocado incident” my initial reaction to the certain death of my plant was one of panic and despair. I scoured the internet for a cure, only to discover that shy of me becoming an aroborist and learning how to graft trees together, Darren was pretty much doomed. After staring at Darren in a forlorn manner for a few minutes, I decided that all I could do was keep on caring for my pale little friend and enjoy his loveliness until the nutrition from his seed runs out. I will allow him to wilt with dignity and then I will compost him.
I’ve had Darren for four months now, and he is finally starting to fade. Knowing he wasn’t long for this earth, I have taken time every day to admire him and have talked to him affectionately even more than is normal for a crazy spinster.
Beauty is fleeting I suppose, as I was reminded earlier today by looking at pictures of myself from 2004.