Susan's potted fig tree now has five figs.
Five!
Every day Susan excitedly completes a visual inspection, and using the fingers on her hand takes a quick count. Once that's done she spends a few moments admiring her five beautiful figs before moving on to fantasizing about harvesting the figs, about putting them on a pretty plate and bringing them to a party. 

Possible fantasy conversation;

What are these, dates?
No, they're figs.
Figs? Where did you get them?
From my tree.
Your tree? Do you live in Israel?
No, down the block.
You're so lucky to have a fig tree. 
I know!

Or, her fantasy could become more complex, involving food preparation;

She could be hosting the party, wearing her vintage Indian tunic and some dangly jewelry. In her fantasy she would chop the figs, toss them with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and the teeniest pinch of black truffle salt then let them sit while she toasted some baguette slices. She would top the toasts with the figs, some cracked black pepper and fresh goat cheese made from the goats in her yard. 

Her yard of fig trees. 

Here's the stuff Susan's dreams are made of:

Susan loves figs.

Susan never even thought of figs until a few years ago when she took her kids to the most horriblest place in the world and made the acquaintance of her husband's elderly auntie, Rose.

Aunt Rose brought over a plate of green figs plucked from a tree in her yard, they were soft, sweet and shaped like tear drops. Susan had never seen figs shaped like tear drops, only like Fig Newtons.
She ate them all.

A few years later Susan read this article about the abundance of fig trees in Brooklyn. Fig trees in Brooklyn! Susan and Brooklyn live on different parts of the same island, if Brooklyn can grow fig trees then why can't Susan?

Susan filed that thought away & continued to seek out the expensively succulent fruit in the supermarket.

Two weeks ago the Old Folks came up to sleep in Susan's basement for ten days. While on a recon mission to the supermarket Susan found a gigantic flat of gorgeous figs and tossed her old man's Ensure overboard to make room for them. Once home no one showed the same interest in them as Susan did, and based on their limited shelf life Susan feared the plump little cherubs would turn into moldy old hags before they could be eaten.
She researched ways to use the figs; baked into tarts, roasted with cheese, sliced in salad, grilled and drizzled with balsamic or made into a simple jam.

The jam won.

Susan loves to spread jam on things or mix it into brownies, oatmeal, homemade thick yogurt and smoothies. She doesn't can, but she makes easy fruit butters which keep in the fridge for at least a season.

On Sunday Susan and the husband were headed to warehouse style membership club to redeem a 90 day trial offer and purchase a very specific list of items. Along the side of the road Susan saw a handmade sign that read FIG TREES. One U-turn later Susan & the husband were in a hidden thicket getting the low down from a Greek lady on how they must plant, prune & baby their two year old tree. 

Susan is going to keep her fig tree in a pot for at least the first year so that she can bring it inside for the winter. 

The awesome summer has begun.