I finally overpowered and heat, and laziness, and completed one of his paintings have long begun.
All the characters that inhabit this picture I have long been familiar, and I painted them with love and fun. Do not consider me a narcissist, because it is not a self-portrait. Well, the lemon tree itself has its heroic history.
Main events of the story took place in a previous life. The historical materialism. Gave it to me for my birthday, my high school friend, who died shortly thereafter. Well, this tree for many years, we watered the whole family and waiting for the long-awaited lemons. And in the new year it hung toys. But all was not lemons.
Then he suddenly dried up, I cut it at the root, But oddly he again let sprout from the stump, showing wonders of joie de vivre. It was like a sign from God. But alas lemons still not there.
In the new life I dragged him to work in the KB, where he continued to grow in a huge wooden box. But lemons he still was not.
And when we finally bought him a big, expensive and beautiful ceramic pot, he suddenly took so withered and died. Empty pot as empty coffin stood idle for long. I have successfully bred in him "passion fruit" (bright orange with pimples). It is the way, bitch, good fruit. And then I suddenly, and perhaps not so suddenly ill, dropped everything, and the pot was presented to the protection.
That's such a sad story.