But not quite. I didn't get the varieties I'd planned, but as any homegrown variety will be a stunner, in my case it doesn't matter much. And if you get in fast there'll still be a good choice of trees. (I do mean 'fast' though. The 'end of winter bare rooted fruit tree' sales of previous years may not be happening this year, as every tree will have been snapped up.)

Planting fruit trees seems to be a deeply human and extremely sensible response to disaster. A fruit tree is a promise to the future. It's also something that every one of us can do now. No spare cash to buy some trees? Harvest a few apple cores and plant the seeds, or the seeds of oranges or lemons. The trees that result may not be exactly like their parents, but they will grow fast, and still produce excellent fruit just as fast as the grafted ones. (This isn't the case for all fruits, but it seems to be for apples and citrus).

You may even find that your seedling trees grow even faster, as they won't be grafted on semi dwarfing stock, nor will their growth be set back by the trauma of grafting. Seedlings will also probably grow taller, but as most fruit trees do best when pruned (not all - cherries and apricots can be killed by over pruning) even the most vigorous apples, pears or even lemons can be hedged, as long as you are prepared to race out with the clippers to hack them back after every summer rain storm.

So what truly essential trees should you be grabbing now?

There are three absolute basic fruit trees in my life. Yes, I adore pomegranates, both for their unripe seeds as crunch and sweetness in salads and for the juice in dressings for hot vegetables in winter. White peaches are the essence of summer, especially with champagne, rivalled only by sun-warm cherries. Meaty late peaches are a luxury, freshly picked with none of their flavor leached by cold storage. Quinces are a winter treat, making the whole house smell of pineapple as they slowly simmer or bake. A hard winter pear, thinly sliced, is glorious with an even thinner slice of cheese. But essential? That's apples, oranges and lemons. A banal choice, perhaps, but there's usually a good reason why clichés have become common.

Apples are my staple if I'm working. Need another thousand words? Just add apples. They are always in my handbag, a far tastier snack than I am likely to easily find while travelling, and the perfect fruit to crunch for a 10-minute reviver stop.

I've just made a vast pot of stewed apple, spiced with a little cinnamon, cloves, ginger, coriander and cardamom. Some will become the apple tart for visitors tomorrow, the rest will go briefly into the freezer to become crumbles as needed, or to top up muesli or porridge, possibly with a little rhubarb or plums or blackberries.

Apples will crop from December to August if you choose the right varieties, and the late varieties like Democrats, Sturmer Pippin and Lady Williams will last till the Earliblaze or Beauty of Bath are ready to be picked. Plant a year of apple in a hedge along the fence line and you will never want for something delicious to crunch.

Oranges? Freshly squeezed orange juice tastes of sunshine. It does not taste anything like a product you may find in a plastic or cardboard container, even if it does have the word 'fresh' written on it. If orange juice wasn't squeezed within the last hour, it's not fresh. But an orange's true beauty is in winter, when they have been touched by frost and so become super sweet and super juicy, and the peel is so mild that I leave a little on just for the tang.

Lemons are an all-year-round necessity. Today they have been added to the stewed apple; to the pastry that will go around the apple; and to the leek paella. They are also the basis for the cordial I didn't drink today, but others did. I doubt there has been a day in the last 40 years when I haven't had lemon in some form - a lemon also goes into my handbag when travelling, to make tea bag and luke-warm water tea drinkable or under or overcooked vegetables edible.

We have enough lemon trees. We don't always have enough water to keep the lemon trees fruiting or even in leaf, but that's another matter. We have enough apple trees too. But most of our orange trees have died of drought, bushfire winds and extreme old age, and it is time to replace them, feed them, water them and rejoice in them. And I suspect that across Australia gardeners - and those who have never planted a tree before - are doing the same.