
I live in FLORIDA people. I mean the orange juice capital of the WORLD, right? But I cannot get a decent orange to save my life. Plus the little cruddy ones I get are ridiculously expensive as well. So, true to my amazing town, I take up this little crudely hand painted sign's offer of "Juice Oranges, 3 dollars 1/2 bushel. I pull into this guy's driveway and there stands a 90 year old man if he's a day. Friendly old coot with a back yard full of orange trees. Someone is there in a Mercedes talking to him. They are in no rush on my account. He's obviously a return customer. He tells the old man he'll check back in next week for some more. He leaves and the old man turns his attention to me.
He has to go PICK the oranges for me and I feel terribly guilty about that. But this is his job, his livelihood. He also has navel oranges as well. So I tell him I'll be back. When I return, another customer is just leaving and he has two HUGE brown paper sacks waiting for me. One filled with juicing oranges, the other with navels. 3 bucks for the juicers, 5 for the navels.
His trees are sparse and he thinks he'll have to go out of business. He is convinced that the trees have caught some citrus disease and that is why the trees aren't producing as well. He shows me the difference between a healthy tree and a straggly one. He has not had the trees checked nor the soil. And apparently can't be bothered with such technology. He poo poos my idea of soil checking with a "It's not the soil" remark. I imagine he may know better than I do.
I can't help but feel sorry for him. And sorry that I never pulled in before today, though I am quite certain he does not feel sorry for himself and would not appreciate my pity either.
"This your first time here? " he asks. "I haven't seen you before."
I imagine he knows each of his customers.
He tells me he normally has oranges through February but doesn't think he'll have oranges much past next week this year. I tell him I'll check in next week too...though I have more oranges than I know what to do with. He tells me to pull up further next time and that if his garage door is open then he is too. I know I will not be able to resist this man.
Lauren juiced an entire 2 quart pitcher by hand...for breakfast later this morning... these oranges are fantastic and I will not sip it without thinking of him.
I like this old Eustis man and know that he and his oranges won't be around for much longer. I'd hug him if I thought he'd like it. But for now, I'll just check in with him again, let him pick his oranges and talk about the weather...time is all we have.
He has to go PICK the oranges for me and I feel terribly guilty about that. But this is his job, his livelihood. He also has navel oranges as well. So I tell him I'll be back. When I return, another customer is just leaving and he has two HUGE brown paper sacks waiting for me. One filled with juicing oranges, the other with navels. 3 bucks for the juicers, 5 for the navels.
His trees are sparse and he thinks he'll have to go out of business. He is convinced that the trees have caught some citrus disease and that is why the trees aren't producing as well. He shows me the difference between a healthy tree and a straggly one. He has not had the trees checked nor the soil. And apparently can't be bothered with such technology. He poo poos my idea of soil checking with a "It's not the soil" remark. I imagine he may know better than I do.
I can't help but feel sorry for him. And sorry that I never pulled in before today, though I am quite certain he does not feel sorry for himself and would not appreciate my pity either.
"This your first time here? " he asks. "I haven't seen you before."
I imagine he knows each of his customers.
He tells me he normally has oranges through February but doesn't think he'll have oranges much past next week this year. I tell him I'll check in next week too...though I have more oranges than I know what to do with. He tells me to pull up further next time and that if his garage door is open then he is too. I know I will not be able to resist this man.
Lauren juiced an entire 2 quart pitcher by hand...for breakfast later this morning... these oranges are fantastic and I will not sip it without thinking of him.
I like this old Eustis man and know that he and his oranges won't be around for much longer. I'd hug him if I thought he'd like it. But for now, I'll just check in with him again, let him pick his oranges and talk about the weather...time is all we have.
2 comments:
I love stories like this about the REAL Florida culture and it's residents. So much better than the commercialized version containing nothing but Disney.
Don't you love Lake County? It reminds me of the Catskill Mountains in NY State, where my husband and I lived for a time. I can't convince anyone back there that Florida is actually not all tacky tourist spots. How sad. We just got back from our nightly trip to Donnelly Park. What a fun, friendly, happy place. It thrills me to know my kids get the privledge to grow up here. When we moved here a year ago they told me it reminded them of the Fisher Price Village set they play with. How cute is that? Anyway, thanks for sharing the story Steph.
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