I pushed a peach seed into a lemon and covered the breach with peel. Then I planted the hybrid fruit in a Footscray front garden, and watered it.

I used the wooden golf club I'd found on the street to strike lemons along a laneway. Almost all of them exploded on impact, decorating the bluestone with streaks of yellow.

Games at my staff Christmas party included frisbee, football and lemon frisbee, which lasted until the slice broke up, perfuming our hands.

It would appear that birds dislike lemons. Meg's budgerigars were interested in themselves, each other and everything in the cage that wasn't the huge lemon that I'd balanced between their perch and the wire. Did it scare them?

With blue card, lemon card, silver ink and a slice of lemon I constructed greetings cards for friends. The lemon took the ink very nicely, and printed prettily enough. "Season's Greetings" I scrawled in silver, then wrote personalised messages in black.

In the park I took my shoes off and started spinning, fixing my eyes on the lemon in my right hand. Everything blurred except the lemon and a fly. It took a while for things to reassemble.

In a shot glass I mixed two-thirds rum to one-third lemon juice, and skulled it. Julien insisted that they did something like this in the Dominican Republic. In any case, the combination worked for me. Refill.

I tested an expensive sanitary napkin by squeezing a lemon over it and watching for leaks. It was a first, for me, holding up the pad and watching the liquid disappear like magic.

At the shopping centre a person dressed as Santa was handing out sweets from a basket. I approached with a lemon and placed it among the treats. "A healthy option," I explained. Santa said something like "ho ho ho" and offered me a chocolate by way of exchange.

At the market I found a ride designed for children. For two dollars the machine moved a chair in slow circles, spinning in time with a clown. I placed a lemon on the chair, inserted a coin, then stood there staring like a weird parent.

In an effort to force myself to relax I placed a lemon on my belly while lying on the bed and let it go up and down, up and down, up and down, more and more slowly.

During a day of training at Scienceworks Museum I visited the Sportsworks exhibit, which featured a machine measuring the speed at which yellow balls were pitched. I substituted a lemon and managed 49km/h - fast enough to break the fruit against the wall.

So stressed was I by depending on other people to arrange finances for my home-loan that I lowered myself to the floor, squealing like some other species. Usefully, there was a large lemon within reach - I stuffed it into my mouth as if it were a mute, and I a trumpet.

Sarah filled a plastic bag with lemon juice, before dinner, then pierced the bag over my ear. I'm not sure how loudly I squealed as everything was muted. I thought about my brain. Later, I could hear very clearly, as if the world had been amplified.

At a South Melbourne fish-and-chip shop Julien poured vinegar over a slice of lemon, saying: "I wonder how this tastes." Answer? Exactly like an oyster, so we did it several times. In fact we repeated it the following evening, at dinner, inviting our guests to suck. Why pay more?

At an arcade in Box Hill I played Tekken 6 as a girl character, using a lemon to press "punch" and "kick." I won the first round, easily, although my opponent was hardly moving. The use of a tool seemed to activate special moves in which my character became a violent butterfly. In round two I was not so lucky, as my opponent could suddenly fight. I left quickly to avoid inserting another coin.

While standing in a bath-tub I broke a lemon over my head, letting its juice cascade down my face and body. It stung me, and blinded me; but, later, I smelt good.

I had the hilarious idea of attaching a lemon to my phone charger and plugging it in. By morning the connection was completely destroyed, clogged with pith, juice and peel. I had to buy a new one.

I made hummus from scratch and by hand, beating the garlic and chickpeas together in a mortar before mixing through the oil, tahini and lemon juice. It made three cups of paste, which were quickly eaten.

I attached a lemon to the back of my bicycle with a long piece of string, then rode off through the park, looking back - like Achilles - at the carnage in my wake.