Figs
There is a somewhat famous passage where, I think, Sylvia Plath talks about seeing herself as a fig tree, green and luscious with ripe figs, that all rot and wither on the vine because she cannot decide which to eat. I cannot remember if I am doing justice to this passage but I think it is about her Potential and her Career and her Path. I understand that it has become a very popular passage among a certain set. Good for them! I have always considered myself more of a thistle than a fig tree: fundamentally donkey food, but very hard to eradicate. So I have never felt the angst of these particular problems. But I have felt the angst of figs.1
I have a fig tree that a friend gave me. It has given me great pleasure to see it grow so tall in such a short time, especially as I have done absolutely nothing to assist it. Yet despite its bearing a lovely crop of green figs every year, I have never eaten a single fig of its bounty. Do you know why this is? It’s not indecision. It’s not because they ripen and wither on the vine. It’s squirrels. Those damn squirrels. Those damns squirrels eat every single green fig, every time, all in one night. I hate those little bastards.
This year there are, miraculously, a few that survived. I think the fig tree has just grown tall enough that its weaker and more pliable top branches cannot support the weight of the squirrels to reach the figs. God willing the figs will finish ripening and I will eat them in a salad with roasted butternut squash and shallots and braised squirrel.
So that’s the lesson for all the post-coquette post-girlhood substack introspectors. Your figs won’t fall victim to excess potential, they will victim to squirrels. The only way to beat them is to grow too tall for them reach. That or an air rifle. That’s my plan next year.
New writing: I reviewed The Life of a Showgirl
Reading: I have begun reading The Grapes of Wrath again.
Listening: The Life of a Showgirl, obviously, but also the new Mickey and The Motorcars album
Considering buying with money I 100% do not have: Squirrel killing dress
The fig is an angst-bearing tree. The only fruit ever to personally annoy our gentle Lord himself. Sylvia Plath whatever you think of her is in good company.
I feel this SO deeply… squirrels are the worst worst worst. But if the squirrels are really that bad, you can candy the not-quite ripe green ones in a sugar syrup. It’s even better when you steep the fig leaves in the syrup. They’re not as joyful as properly ripe fig, but they are awfully good in their own way.
How does the dress kill squirrels