Each of our neighbours grows outstanding citrus. On our farm citrus perishes; that is, apart from the one squat kumquat tree by the back verandah which annually produces sunny, bursting fruit.
The kumquat does not back onto a north facing brick wall. It is largely un-nourished. Its diet is of spent tealeaves, coffee grounds, blue wren droppings, toenail clippings and windblown newspapers. No need for a composter.
As I type, the fruit is being sliced thinly and pipped for marmalade. The tangy aroma wafts from the kitchen. In other years we have plopped the kumquats into brandy with copious sugar to create a zesty liqueur perfect with ice-cream on a sticky summer evening.