It must be seven years ago, certainly while Woolworths was still trading in the UK, that our friend L offered to buy us an apple tree. She gave us ten pounds and we got a Bramley from 'Woolies'. Now it was time for M our 'apprentice' to buy a tree. She wanted a Bramley too and for ten pounds.
We probably spent half that amount as we drove around the Essex/Hertfordshire borders on a rainy Tuesday morning pricing trees. We learned a lot. We started with one of our favourite nurseries - at least £28.00 for a Bramley in a very large pot. We put our dripping selves into the car and found a garden centre that was offering half price on everything. A bargain if you wanted evergreens, conifers, bay trees or olive trees. We tried a very large cut price store on the trading estate. Inexpensive jam-making stuff (I'm going back) but no apples. I bought broad beans as a consolation. Next stop, a big store near the North Circular. Patio apples. M did not want a patio apple, she wanted a Bramley. M dragged me away from the half-price area. I had spotted and wanted to rescue a sad cyclamen.
We finally found a Bramley in another store on another occasion while buying winter bulbs for a customer. Ten pounds for a tree originally bare-rooted, which had been crammed into a pot with lots of peat. We went back with M.
Now M's tree is planted in the spot she designated for it earlier, completing an arc of trees that starts with our eating apple, then the 'rescued' apple that was disentanged from the grapevine, the vine itself and the damson tree. Each has its own antecedents, known or unknown, and a fruitful history. May that be so for M's tree too.
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