Horticultural genius

I have been growing a lime tree on my back porch essentially since we moved into our house. This tree, given to us as a housewarming gift by my dad, is something I have developed deep emotional ties to. I am terrible - *TERRIBLE* - at growing things. I once killed a cactus due to over-love (read: over-watering). I would like to be the amazing gardener that all the women in my family seem to be, but to call a spade a spade, I have quite a way to go. So anyway, I have been nurturing this tree. Nothing thrills me more than the thought of walking outside one sunny Saturday afternoon this summer and picking limes for my margarita right off of my beautiful and happy lime tree. It is fantastic. So imagine my despair when this tree doesn't seem particularly happy. His leaves curl and uncurl, he leans sideways, he does everything he can think of to make my heart wrench with grief at his potential untimely demise. So imagine my surprise and delight when I walk outside to find this:There are many more, just like this one, all over the tree. I am a horticultural genius! My lime tree is happy! He likes the way I water him. He's going to make limes! It's going to be a fantastic summer!

Now if only he would have a discussion with my ficus tree about how awesome I am. Maybe I should focus all my plant-growing power on getting him to stop dropping his leaves.