Ep 181. Don't Be a Fig Pig - Give a Fig

Mary Stone shares a story about a fig tree in Cape May, NJ, sporting an invitation to help yourself. But a sign saying "Don't be a Fig Pig" reminds her of picking daffodils as a young child and being scolded for it. 

Then recounts the saga of overwintering a fig tree given as a rite of passage after marrying that didn't end well. But it wasn't that she didn't give a fig, leading to the memory of humorous banter with her dear mom about the word "shit."

Mary concludes by encouraging listeners to think about their past, the tears, and the laughter, and while some memories of tough times can be hard to revisit, there are good things, sometimes remarkable things, that grow from them. 

Thank you for tuning in! 

Links to related Episodes and Blog Posts: 

Don't be a Fig Pig– Blog Post 

Ep 180. Overview of The Lesson of the Leaf

Root Pruning and Journey of Growth – Blog Post

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I'd love to hear your garden and nature stories and your thoughts about topics for future podcast episodes. You can email me at AskMaryStone@gmail.com. 

You can Follow Garden Dilemmas on Facebook and Instagram #MaryElaineStone.

Episode web page —Garden Dilemmas Podcast Page

 Thank you for sharing the Garden of Life,

Mary Stone, Columnist & Garden Designer

                                        AskMaryStone.com

More about the Podcast and Column:

Welcome to Garden Dilemmas, Delights, and Discoveries.

It's not only about gardens; it's about nature's inspirations, about grasping the glories of the world around us, gathering what we learned from mother nature, and carrying these lessons into our garden of life. So, let's jump in in the spirit of learning from each other. We have lots to talk about.

Thanks for tuning in, Mary Stone
Garden Dilemmas? AskMaryStone.com
Direct Link to Podcast Page

Transcript

Ep 181. Don't Be a Fig Pig - Give a Fig

Keywords

garden dilemmas, nature inspirations, indoor plants, fig tree, Cape May, winter protection, fig pigs, free figs, fig thief, fig newtons, childhood memories, bear scat, Valentine's Day, snowshoeing, rescue dogs, Mary, Stone

Speakers

Mary (100%)

MS

Mary Stone

0:00

Mary, Hello, fellow lovers of all things green. I'm Mary Stone, and welcome to Garden Dilemmas, Delights, and Discoveries. It's not only about gardens. It's about nature's inspirations, about grasping the glories of the world around us, gathering what we learn from Mother Nature, and carrying these lessons into our garden of life. So, let's jump in, in the spirit of learning from each other. We have lots to talk about. 

MS

Mary Stone

0:26

Hello there. It's Mary Stone on a mid-October morning, and it is very cold out here. It dropped to 36 degrees here in Blairstown, New Jersey. I've camped out here over the weekend, and it rose to 44 degrees, a tad chilly, but that's what blankets are for. I'm looking around at my indoor plants still out here, and realize it's almost time to bring them inside. And I look forward to having them inside as well, but they always seem happier out here on the screen porch, just as I am. 

MS

Mary Stone

0:55

Thank you, kind listeners and readers, for encouraging my mission of our book: The Lesson of the Leaf: How Nature, Gardens (and Rescue Dogs) Help Heal and Grow your Life. This morning, I received an email from Koleen Garland, my writer friend, who you may recall, shared the Dagnabbit Rabbit Dilemma, featured in episode 175. She sent the email to our entire Writers Group, which is an offshoot of the Hay House Writers Community. Perhaps Hay House will be our publisher. She shared her words of encouragement, and I so appreciate them. But one of the things I wanted to share with you was how Koleen described how the Lesson of the Leaf connects the wonders of the Earth with the wonders of life experiences. Thank you for that, Koleen so well said. 

MS

Mary Stone

1:42

And a note from Ken Roberts, my singing buddy at the home for hospice and dear friend. Hello, dear partner. There is so much wisdom and warmth and love in your words. You certainly bared your soul. It had to be so difficult to write it, to live it all over again, scratching the scabs. But those 12 minutes are inspiring or helping or comforting someone along their path, and to my mind, just knowing how you've been and are helping people with your words should go a long way towards conquering the self-doubt that troubles you. It is good advice for all of us to focus on our strengths and what we have to contribute to our world rather than our doubts and fears. Your encouragement and love means so much. 

MS

Mary Stone

2:26

Speaking of blankets, I look forward to sharing a story about coming upon a fig tree in Cape May and the wisdom from the owner. Don't be a fig pig. We'll wrap up with a rough draft of a personal story that poured out after I sent the fig pig story to The Press, and it starts like this,.

MS

Mary Stone

2:45

Hello, fellow listeners and readers. It's a joy to walk the streets of Victorian architecture in Cape May located in the very tip of New Jersey. It has attracted vacationers since the mid-18th century, designating Cape May as the country's oldest seaside resort. Glorious gardens and monarch butterflies abound, indicating a healthy habitat. As I meandered by a fig tree that towered almost to the roof of a two-story home, I thought that's a heck of a tree to wrap over winter. 

MS

Mary Stone

3:15

Fig trees are native to the tropics, with a few species considered semi-tropical, and will grow unprotected in zones eight to 10. Cape May is a, USDA zone 7b, one or two zones warmer than ours, but you can grow hardier figs with the proper winter protection. Cultivars of the common fig Ficus carrier, such as Brown Turkey, Chicago or Celeste, are the best, and it's best to skip growing them in the ground north of zone six. Instead, use containers and bring them to a protected area in the winter where temperatures won't dip below 20 degrees. Fig trees like to be root-bound. That means tight in their pot to produce the most fruit. Upsize the pot each year until your tree reaches the size you care to maneuver afterward, you'll need to root prune every three years and return Mr. Fig to the same pot. Yep, it's an effort.

MS

Mary Stone

4:08

Walking closer to the beefy tree with its shiny, coarse leaves, I noticed a sign Free Figs and capital letters on a bright yellow board. Bulleted below are the rules: pick ripe ones, yellow and soft. Please take two max per person. Don't be a fig pig. Donations appreciated. While chuckling over Don't be a fig pig. A car exits the driveway. Did you find any the gentleman asked. I wasn't looking to pick, but I love your sign. And admire the size of the fig tree. How do you wrap such a giant? It's the south side of the house, so there's no need to wrap it. The idea of offering figs for free and inviting a donation came after learning that someone was coming uninvited and picking the figs clean. Talk about a fig pig. More like a fig thief, taking things, picking things, or helping yourself to anything that is not yours astounds me. 

MS

Mary Stone

5:03

The culprit, Warren found out, is a neighbor who owns a restaurant in town. Seriously, it seems he would be more aware of the wrongs of pilfering food. Warren took it in stride, and now that he is retired, he can oversee his bounty. It's been a banner year, making $183 for the local cub and Boy Scout troops, he said.

MS

Mary Stone

5:24

I was given a baby fig tree as a rite of passage. When I married into a family of Italian descent, I was outwardly appreciative but inwardly dreading the hassles of overwintering. Never mind the parade of ants I recall seeing on the mother plant next to the in-laws' pool. Don't get me wrong, I'm fond of figs, but I prefer the uncomplicated way of enjoying them wrapped in the long-loved Fig Newton rather than wrestling and wrapping a fig tree. I religiously clothed my potted baby fig in old blankets from the bottom of the pot to the top of the tree, lassoing the garb with garden twine—carpet, carpet foam quilts and pink insulation, fiberglass work, too. I was diligent for a few years. Then I missed the timeline. Bittersweet. It wasn't that I didn't give a fig. I felt terrible for the baby that grew head high. Rather than intentionally kill the laborious tree, I'd have given it away. 

MS

Mary Stone

6:22

Not giving a fig is an old-time idiom that means not caring at all, originating from the 15th century English poem The Court of Love. Not that I knew that without research, but it's nice to have a G-rated option. 

MS

Mary Stone

6:35

Did you know The first Fig Newton was baked in 1891? It's incredible how some things last forever and others, well, not so much. Though true, the husband that came with the fig tree lasted a decade longer. Garden Dilemmas?AskMaryStone.com.

MS

Mary Stone

6:54

When I sent the story and the photos to the paper, the editor, Melissa, noticed Warren was also giving way, free golf balls, free figs, free golf balls, what a combo. 

MS

Mary Stone

7:06

The thing about not picking flowers that aren't yours to pick is when you're a young child, you may not know what's ours and what's theirs. My first memory of flowers was picking daffodils from my mom while she was engaged in conversation with the neighbor. Mom was horrified and embarrassed. I was sent to my room, confused and so sad. I thought I was doing something kind. Dad came home from work and spanked me. It's the only time he did, and it's the first childhood memory I have of him. When we were kids, he spent most of his time in the basement with his ham radio equipment. I should preface that he didn't know how to be a dad, not having a dad of his own when he grew up, but he became much better as we grew up into adults. I was too young to explain my good intentions, not knowing that the flowers were not free for the picking. 

MS

Mary Stone

7:57

Besides, when you think about it, none of us own a darn thing. We come here with nothing and leave with nothing other than the love we leave behind. I was going to write damn thing instead of darn thing, but that's a naughty word we learned as kids. Later, it became okay. I have a funny and fond memory of a chat with Dear mom over tea. We always drank Lipton tea. I was visiting her in my mid-20s, I'd say, and we were in this conversation where she declared the all-encompassing, universal, beneficial word of Shit-  Not nearly as bad as other cursed words. It hardly raises an eyebrow. You can say Shit when you're mad or sad or when you don't care, but when you're shrugging things off, it's all-encompassing, Mom said. We bantered back and forth about our applications for Shit, the two of us laughing so hard that tears welled. I don't give a fig doesn't quite have the same oomph as I don't give a shit, same as figs happen versus Shit happens. Are you laughing yet? 

MS

Mary Stone

9:02

Long ago, while walking in the woods with a friend new to the joy of walking amongst the trees and snowshoes, we came upon various forms of wildlife scat. Coyotes and foxes typically poop in the center of a trail, often on a rock to mark their turf. Coyote scat is much larger and hairier as they eat the whole kill. Maybe foxes do, too, but bears don't. It wasn't until I moved to Blairstown, New Jersey, that I learned bears are omnivores, meaning they eat animals and plants. I always thought they were herbivores or vegans.

MS

Mary Stone

9:36

Anyway, I was gardening below a shagbark hickory tree in the backyard, and hidden in the weedy mess was the perfect head of a newborn fawn. My stomach turned; how gruesome the find was, but it wasn't bloody. A few days later, Sara, one of the Golden Girls, Golden Retrievers we spontaneously adopted after coming upon the poster at the general store in Vermont, brought me another fawn head in and dropped it at my feet. So it wasn't until I asked around town that, indeed, they do not eat the heads of their kill. 

MS

Mary Stone

10:08

Interestingly, during our courtship, my boyfriend funny to call them boyfriends. I was 36 then was gung ho about joining me and my love for downhill skiing and hiking. Hence, the Vermont log cabin he rented for the first few years we were together. He even took up cross country, buying the first generation of backcountry cross-country skis with metal edges. I still have my first set now serving as rock skis for when the snow is shallow. What's a few more dings and dents. 

MS

Mary Stone

10:38

He proposed to me in the cabin on Valentine's Day. I set up the red balloons and glittery stars that I had brought, and I gave him a card with sentiments of how I loved our time together and how he turned around the heartache after my first marriage as brief as it was. I suppose I should share more about the dress rehearsal first wedding. Dress rehearsal was coined by my dear old dad when things quickly went to Shit; the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde story comes to mind. According to brother Bill, he threatened to drive his 83 Buick station wagon with his hunting rifle and take care of a few things. But gratefully, I was able to exit that nightmare. And dad kept the beautiful family portrait from the wedding on the wall, as the whole family was rarely together; the five pack of Stone kids lived in varying states. Using electrical tape, he taped a shroud over the groom's head. I'm laughing as I write, but it was a scary time, but a full dunk baptism came out of it, for which I am so grateful. More on that later. Everything has a reason. Everything has a season. 

MS

Mary Stone

11:47

Along with the card, I gave a plush lion holding a heart, Hallmark is on it the commercialism of the day, but it wasn't the intention originally. Valentine's day was a day honoring the early Saint named Valentinus. Credit goes to the English poet Geoffrey Chaucer in the 14th century for shifting the association of Saint Valentine's Day to romantic love, a connotation that spread across countries and religions. I'll admit, I like the chocolates, yeah, but I can buy them for myself. 

MS

Mary Stone

12:18

My hubby-to-be didn't have anything that first Valentine's Day, no card, no roses, no chocolates. And after our romantic evening, he pulled out of his pocket, will you marry me? No ring. But I didn't care. I smile at the memory, but the recollection of the plenty of wine for me and vodka for him saddens my heart for the things that came next. 

MS

Mary Stone

12:43

So, back to my walk in the woods on snowshoes with my friend Dorothy, visiting from Texas, we came upon fresh bear scat, enormous full of seeds, and the raisinet-looking piles of deer droppings all over the woods. Identified all these things, and she said, Boy, you know your Shit. It felt so good to laugh as the marriage was already declining. A snowmobile took over his skis. He no longer joined me for hikes, and I was back to walking alone in the woods. That's when a couple of pups came into my life to join me, turning my dreaded fear of dogs around. 

MS

Mary Stone

13:20

Well, I think we're going to end here, kind listeners, so it's the end of storytelling for the day. I want to thank you for allowing me to share bits from the past that may or may not be part of the book, but I hope my sharing inspires thoughts of your past, the tears, and the laughter, and while some memories of tough times can be hard to revisit, there are good things, sometimes remarkable things that grow from it. Everything has a reason. Everything has a season. 

MS

Mary Stone

13:48

So, thanks so much for coming by. I always appreciate our time together, and I hope you have as well. And I love hearing your stories, and I love hearing from you, so please keep them coming. You can email me at askmarystone@gmail.com and I look forward to seeing how this new leaf unfolds, sharing bits of the story as I'm working towards my mission of helping others to learn and grow in the garden of life. I appreciate your help and your support. It means so much. And don't forget, don't be a fig pig. Thanks again. See you next time. 

MS

Mary Stone

14:22

You can follow Garden Dilemmas on Facebook or online at Garden Dilemmas.com and on Instagram at hashtag. Mary Elaine Stone. Garden Dilemmas Delights and Discoveries is produced by Alex Bartling. Thanks for coming by. I look forward to chatting again from my screen porch and always remember to embrace the unexpected in this garden of life. Have a great day.