There for the picking

I think my habit of stealing started in Provo. I can't think of any time that I did it before moving here. After the long winter, it began with the roses blooming, having a car to drive, and being a sap. I think most girls like roses. I did at least and I wanted to have some. I noticed blooming rose bushes and so, dressed in black, armed with scissors, I drove around town in search of them. I'd only take one or two from each bush, but you can imagine how it can add up. I'd have roses lined up on my dash, on my seats, in the back and then I'd dry them and hang them in my room. My brothers kidded me that I had a thing for death with all the dying roses lining my walls. I know, I should have asked the people first, but there was something exciting and devilish about skipping from bush to bush. I don't steal roses anymore though. My home decour doesn't include dead drying flowers now. I have my own rose bushes to fill my vases plus the occasional bouquet from Dave.

I wish I could say that my stealing started and ended with roses but it didn't. I've already confessed in a previous post that I stole cherries and tried to make restitution in a pitiful way. It isn't that I enjoy thievery. It's more that I don't like things going to waste. With all the fruit that falls to the ground and is left to be trodden over, I figure there is enough to spare, though I don't trespass anymore. While in Bolivia, there were a few opportunities for my companion and I to save a few bolivianos. I remember deliciously the mango, guava, and chirimoya (divine!) that we had freshly picked but especially the figs. I would assume that many of you have never had a taste of a fresh, ripe fig. They are so good. I ate so many that my mouth would feel like I had hundreds of kankers. I'd look for heavy boughs that are hanging out of their yard in no man's land. The figs were on these heavy boughs so my companion and I would purposely make trips to jump and snag them.

There are a few of these heavy boughs along the secret paths by my house that lead to the chaple and the school. There are apples and grapes there. I get them before they fall to the ground and rot. There are also walnuts along the path (but I don't actually steal those, the man who owns the tree wants us to take them). There are also a few peach trees standing lonely and forlorn along Canyon Road right before heading downward toward the canyon. Lou has helped me with these. I toss the peaches, she puts them in a bag. They aren't big peaches. They are actually kind of pitiful but they make a few good cobblers. There are also some other key areas I know of for purple grapes and nectarines but I am starting to feel a little guilty listing all this. I may be committing a crime or at least setting a bad example for my kids.